


The Seldom Seen

by clydeside



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ancient Egyptian Souls, Angst, Canon is dead in a ditch somewhere, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Millennium Items, Pining, Shadow Realm, Shadows - Freeform, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 44,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25801936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clydeside/pseuds/clydeside
Summary: Yugi’s soul has gone missing after reassembling the Millennium Puzzle in the fire. The Other Yugi is left to fill his place but he is struggling to cope, and the desperate search for his partner is further complicated by the other thing that now dwells within the Puzzle.
Relationships: Atem/Mutou Yuugi, Mutou Yuugi/Yami Yuugi
Comments: 93
Kudos: 144





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Anything about ancient Egypt is trash from the very bottom of my heart, and any vague prose is my bastardization of actual translated hieratic texts. Every fictional liberty has been taken. Then again, this is Yu-Gi-Oh so we're all used to this.
> 
> My gratitude to all the incredible writers and artists in this fandom who’ve kept me coming back for more since 2001. My contribution is a little overdue.

The Spirit of the Puzzle spent five days unconscious, and when he awoke to find Yugi missing, he spent another five pretending to sleep. 

He knew they had been separated during a battle against some stranger named Keith, controlled by a twisted version of one Malik Ishtar. And in the fallout of that, not that he could recall clearly himself, a fire ignited and the puzzle had shattered. He _did_ remember the pain as all the warmth and light he had ever known was stripped away, stranded him, set his soul adrift in the void of the Millennium Puzzle.

But Yugi had reassembled it, by some frantic miracle, in the middle of a blazing fire. Had persevered against red hot metal and suffocating smoke before collapsing with a plea for his other self to return — the last words the spirit had heard from his partner in ten days.

The spirit couldn’t explain Yugi’s absence. The puzzle was whole, glinting gold and cold against his chest. But instead of Yugi’s soul, all that remained in his mind was the whisper of darkness. The sensation was numbing.

Without Yugi he felt aimless in the living world. So he waited in the hospital bed. Waited for Yugi’s burned hands to mend. Waited for his other half to return. For where could his partner’s soul have gone?

***

Yugi’s friends were devoted visitors. The collection of cards and flowers crowded onto the small bedside table grew each day. Their thoughtfulness sat awkwardly with him. These gestures were meant for Yugi, acts of friendship his partner would have cherished.

Whenever they caught him awake, the spirit did his best to receive gifts graciously on his partner’s behalf. Usually a smile and platitudes of “this was so thoughtful of you, thank you”. Yugi’s soul was likely recovering from the trauma and would be back at any moment. The spirit would do his best to cover for his partner in the meantime. There was no cause for alarm. The yawning abyss of the shadow realm surrounding the puzzle only seemed deeper and denser because of Yugi’s absence.

But avoiding unnecessary interactions in the meantime seemed wise. On most days Anzu would sit at his side, a manicured hand resting lightly over Yugi’s arm, a safe distance from his bandaged hands. She would talk about her day, what Yugi had missed at school, Jounouchi and Honda’s latest brawls and pranks. The spirit would usually listen while feigning sleep, silently praying that the unfamiliar sensation of goosebumps up his arms belonged to his partner. But nothing stirred among the shadows of the spirit’s heart.

Jounouchi came by too. It was easier to interact with him — he usually arrived with some new booster packs of cards and opened them at the bedside to exclaim over the best finds and offer up trades. A few times they tried to play quick open-handed games, and Jounouchi would move the cards for both of them while the blisters on Yugi’s hands were still raw. The games were a welcome distraction. The spirit wasn’t even sure if Jounouchi noticed that it wasn’t the real Yugi dictating the moves, or offering advice on which cards should be added to his deck.

His friends certainly knew that a spirit dwelled in the inverted pyramid Yugi wore around his neck, but it seemed the spirit was able to go undetected as long as he said the right things, kept his head down. He figured it was simplest to do this until Yugi was back. Yugi would take up his rightful place and take back control of his body.

Any day now.

Grandpa Sugoroku came on a Saturday to bring Yugi home. The spirit almost resisted — how could Yugi be discharged when he _wasn’t all better_? The burns may have mostly healed, soft pink scars dimpling the skin from his wrists to fingertips, and Yugi’s small lungs given a clean bill of health, but the spirit was still alone in the body. Incomplete and uncomfortably empty.

Instead, he tried to smile in the same way Yugi would greet his grandfather, open and familiar, and turned to accept the offered hug. The contact felt foreign, as though through the embrace of Sugoroku’s arms, he could feel the heat of Yugi’s skin separate from himself, like there was a hollowness to Yugi’s body. A pat on the shoulder rattled him, loose without a second soul to buffer him from the real world.

“Let’s get you home, my boy.”

The spirit pulled himself together and agreed. Best to keep things going smoothly until Yugi returned. Yugi would be upset if the spirit worried his grandpa.

***

Yugi’s bedroom was bathed in afternoon sun when the spirit walked in. The bed had been neatly made, a tidy stack of homework from Anzu left on the corner of the desk, a navy school jacket slung over the chair. The air was tart and fresh — recently cleaned by Yugi’s mother in anticipation of his return home. 

The spirit stood with held breath. His stillness was belied by the expectant pounding of Yugi’s heart. His eyes scanned the room, giving only a cursory glance to the shadows lurking in its furthest corners. Darkness did not concern him — he was seeking any indication of his partner’s presence. Yugi’s absence in the hospital could be excused, the trauma of the fire fresh and painful. But now, here in the calm of home, the comfort of his childhood room, surely something of it would cause him to awaken?

Nothing but silence and emptiness greeted him, and he weakly sank into the bed, cradling the puzzle. With Yugi’s thumbs he traced its edges.

“Where are you hiding him?” he whispered to it.

The golden eye of Horus gleamed in the light but offered nothing. Histories and memories and now Yugi locked away. He had already searched within the puzzle, but been unable to open the door into the corridor that connected their hearts. 

A tendril of fear snaked through him. Had something in the battle with a Malik-possessed Keith broken the bond between Yugi and the puzzle? Had his opponent somehow stolen away Yugi’s soul as a ploy to get the puzzle?

He shook his head. Surely he would be able to feel that kind of damage, that kind of distance between him and his partner. If he closed his eyes, he could sense the edges of the Shadow Realm, the ever-present darkness that surrounded his soul and the puzzle. Some of it drifted past him, lingered in the real world around him, hid in the nooks and crannies of the natural darkness of Yugi’s room.

But there was no hint of the warmth and light of Yugi, no golden thread linking their soul rooms, but also none of the ragged pain that came from being separated, of the puzzle breaking and his own soul being cast into oblivion. Was that where Yugi was? Lost somewhere in that infinite, consuming darkness?

Is that what he could sense in the puzzle? No. There was nothing inside that prison.

“I promise, _Aibou_ , I’ll find you.”

He nodded to himself, as though speaking these words would make it true, but promptly turned to the desk. Yugi’s school backpack had what he wanted — a crumpled brochure from the Domino City Museum about their ancient Egyptian exhibit. _Opening Soon!_ it declared, though Yugi had received it a few weeks earlier.

A woman with a serene expression was pictured on the back of it. Ishizu Ishtar. She had approached Yugi under the pretense of inviting him to the exhibit, though it was quickly revealed that she had far too much knowledge about the Millennium Puzzle. She claimed to see the future through her own Millennium Item, and had been full of warnings of a growing darkness, and the return of a Pharaoh served by her family since time immemorial. A promise to restore him and his memories, if Yugi would give up the puzzle at the end of it.

They’d been united in refusing her. But now her brother was the instigator behind a shattered puzzle, the catalyst for Yugi’s disappearance.

If her secret cult was as devoted to this ancient Pharaoh as she claimed, then she owed him answers.

***

The spirit’s plans were halted. Not by any battle or enemy. But by Yugi’s mother as he strode purposefully through the kitchen.

“Yugi, you just came from the hospital. Where on earth are you going?”

He froze, catching her eye for only a moment before looking away. How easily would she notice it was a false Yugi inhabiting her son’s body? “Out?” he tried. He honestly had no idea what to say to her. Yugi was always so open and sincere with his family. The spirit felt deeply uncomfortable about trying to mimic that.

And he’d already messed up. The one-word answer made Mrs. Mutou frown. “Not today,” her tone brooked no argument. “Take a bath, and supper will be ready soon.” When her son didn’t move, she shooed him back towards the stairs. “You can visit your friends tomorrow, but I want you rested and ready for school on Monday. University entrance exams are soon, and you need to be ready.”

The domesticity of these demands warred with the urgency of finding his partner. But Yugi would surely be restored soon, and would expect to find his life waiting for him, whole and bright. Friends. Family. His real life undisturbed from when he last graced them all with his presence. The spirit would do all he could to preserve that until his return. Disrespecting Yugi’s mother would _not_ go over well.

“Alright, mama,” he conceded, the words like ash in his mouth, and turned to head upstairs. 

***

The spirit pressed the door of the bathroom shut with a gentle click, placed a plug into the deep tub, and started the water.

The reflection in the fogging mirror caught his eye. It was Yugi’s gentle face that looked back at him, marred by the spirit’s hard expression. No indication that something else occupied this body, no sign of the spirit hiding behind Yugi’s eyes. He leaned closer to the mirror, examining them. Anzu had once quipped that “eyes are the windows to the soul”, but no matter how he scrutinized this face and those eyes, Yugi’s soul was not present.

He huffed in irritation, and pushed away from the mirror to stare down at the clothes on Yugi’s body.

He plucked at them uncertainly. When they had first met Ishizu, she told them that the Spirit of the Puzzle had once been a living person, a Pharaoh, though his name was long lost to history. The spirit wondered if he’d had servants to wash his back and file his nails and scrub his scalp, someone to dress him morning and night. But there were no memories of having his own body. It gave him a vague sense of claustrophobia — he was attached for the first time in millennia to a human vessel. But caring for his partner would of course include all facets of his life, no matter how menial. These mortal chores, on top of tending the family Yugi treasured and the friendships he’d painstakingly cultivated since solving the puzzle. 

He could handle this.

The Spirit stripped off the clothes and peered at the row of coloured bottles along the edge of the tub before pouring a reckless amount of thick green gel into the stream of water.

He couldn’t recall Yugi ever using bubbles in the bath, but the spirit found the scent of figs and jasmine comforting, perhaps tied to some long-forgotten memory. And he liked the clouds of tiny fragrant bubbles. He was careful to keep Yugi’s still-tender burns mostly dry, hands hanging over the edges of the tub, but he rested there until Yugi’s toes started to prune. The heat of the water around Yugi’s body gave the impression that the spirit wasn’t alone, that perhaps Yugi’s soul was back and once again pressed around his own. A weight to this body that he on his own, an ancient broken ghost, couldn’t achieve.

If he chased the thought too far, he could feel grief and emptiness swell up and threaten to choke him. He’d drown in it.

Just focus on one thing at a time. _Yugi will be back soon_.

The spirit took in a shaky breath to calm himself, and stepped out of the tub.

***

Dinner was thankfully short and little asked of the spirit, beyond listening to Sugoroku’s narration of interesting customers and new inventory added to the game shop while Yugi had been in hospital. Yugi would have normally loved this, but he couldn’t find it in himself to fake interest.

He pushed vegetables and rice around the bowl, having picked out a few pieces of fish and little appetite for more. _Food_ would not sate the gaping hole in his heart. A comment from Yugi’s mother on how quiet he was and how tired he must be drew an agreement from the spirit, and he seized the opportunity to excuse himself from the table.

In the privacy of Yugi’s room, he slumped into the small desk and buried his face in Yugi’s arms. Such a simple afternoon and he felt drained, mentally and physically.

Was a body all on one’s own always this much effort? He knew that he himself was only as strong as he was because of his partner. The brilliant light of his soul threw into dramatic relief the power and the shadows the Spirit possessed. Without Yugi’s soul, he felt tattered and faint, unanchored except to the foundational calling to protect this one precious thing left in his care.

The spirit clasped Yugi’s hands together, and though he couldn’t remember their names, or the proper invocations, he prayed to ancient gods that everything was going to be okay. That wherever Yugi was, he would be safe until the spirit found him. The spirit would do his best to keep Yugi’s life together in the meantime, and everything in his power to find him. 

_Yugi will be back soon_.

***

Spirits don’t dream. At least, this was what the Spirit of the Puzzle knew to be true. Time had passed in no meaningful way for thousands of years. Perhaps a little fraying of his sanity, perhaps the darkness has consumed all of his memories, but it all went unnoticed to him. Dreams belonged to the whole and the living.

So when he lay back in Yugi’s bed, and closed Yugi’s eyes, he had expected the night to pass much the same as it had in the hospital — Yugi’s body would rest, and he would either drift in the darkness of the shadow realm in a parody of sleep, or restlessly stalk the halls of his spiritual prison. Lost in its winding corridors. Alone.

Instead, this night he found himself in a dense fog. He was standing on firm stone, dusted with a layer of fine sand. It itched under his bare feet. When he raised his hands, he recognized them as his own, and not Yugi’s. When he reached out, they were obscured by white.

Where was he? There was no sky above, no stirring breeze, no sound in this mist. Was this some yet unexplored corner within the puzzle? 

He stepped forward, and heard a footstep approach in the mist.

“ _Aibou_?” he asked, hushed. Another cautious step. Another responding echo. But no voice answered him.

If this was someplace within the puzzle, it should only be him or Yugi allowed here, but he felt a shiver of dread travel up his spine. Who was here with him?

“ _Aibou_ , is that you?” He took five more steps forward, until he heard the other’s footsteps pause just before him. There was someone else standing before him, close enough to touch. Only a breath away, but invisible in the mist.

The spirit held still, waiting for a word, a sound, a glimpse.

In the back of his mind, he could feel the power of the shadows crackling with a static energy, a hiss of alarm.

_run_

Instead he reached forward, hand open and searching -

And touched nothing but empty air.

The hiss became a scream, and shadows snapped into solid existence around him, encircling and swallowing him, yanking him away from the swirling room of white.

The spirit awoke with a panicked shout on his lips, abruptly back in Yugi’s body, sweating and trembling and alone.

***

“How’d you sleep, Yugi?” Sugoroku was placing his mug and plate in the sink when the spirit blearily entered the kitchen.

“Not great,” he answered truthfully.

“If the burns are still hurting, the doctors wrote a prescription for some painkillers. Do you think that might help?” Yugi’s grandfather turned to look at him with concern.

The spirit shrugged. “It wasn’t that, I just couldn’t sleep.”

“I can see by the bags under your eyes.” The spirit grimaced at the observation and turned away to busy himself with pouring a mug of coffee. Sugoroku watched him closely and then continued, “You have been through quite the gamut lately. At least you can take it easy today, and feel better for school tomorrow.”

He hummed in casual agreement. _School_ would be quite the hurdle if Yugi wasn’t restored by then. “I actually want to see my friends today, maybe visit the museum.”

“If you think you’re up to it,” Sugoroku allowed.

The spirit honestly wasn’t sure he felt up to anything, much less a day of Yugi’s friends, but he needed to go to the museum. Yugi had brought the spirit there a handful of times, but the spirit hadn’t the faintest idea of where it was. He knew Yugi kept his bus pass in the front pocket of his school bag, but to get to the museum… did he take the bus from the stop outside the shop? He had never travelled the city without his partner’s lead and asking for directions would raise suspicions. He needed the cover of Yugi’s friends. They would happily agree to go with him, and the spirit would closely watch the route, learn how to navigate this world.

Sure of his plan, he downed the bitter drink with a swift gulp, placed the mug in the sink alongside Sugoroku’s, and faced the kitchen phone. It had a convenient list of numbers pinned to the wall beside it, _Mazaki_ and _Jounouchi_ below the names of some mahjong ladies Yugi’s mother played with, and Sugoroku’s colleagues from his days as a university professor.

He lifted the receiver, carefully dialed Jounouchi. Yugi called his friends in a delighted flurry, fingers flying through the memorized numbers. The spirit’s finger paused on the keypad - he _really_ didn’t want Yugi’s friends to panic, or realize he was missing, at least not before the spirit had a chance to figure out where he had disappeared to. _He will be back soon_ was a steady mantra in his mind.

He swallowed, arranged a wide smile onto his face, pressed the final digit, and prepared to greet Jounouchi with his best imitation of Yugi.

It hardly rang once before the line was answered. “YUGI!” Jounouchi bellowed the name like a greeting. “You’re finally home! How’re you doing?”

“I’m good, thanks.” The spirit was sure that the real Yugi would return the question, politely inquire about his friend’s weekend, comment optimistically about being back at home. But the spirit skipped the pleasantries, forging ahead with purpose. “Look, I was wondering if you wanted to come with me to the museum today, to check out their ancient Egyptian exhibit.”

“Sure,” he easily agreed. “Hunting for some memories for that spirit in the puzzle?”

“I’m hoping Ishizu Ishtar might be able to help,” the spirit hedged, and offered nothing else. He wanted the conversation to end, and it hadn’t even started.

“That creepy prophet lady? Well now I’m definitely not letting you go over there alone. After what Malik pulled, I’m not letting any Ishtar near you! I’ll call the others and meet you at the Game Shop in a bit.”

He thanked Jounouchi and hung up, relieved to be off the phone. The spirit’s smile softened to something sincere. Yugi’s friends were truly good people with his best interests at heart and he was grateful that Jounouchi was so on board for this little excursion with absolutely no prompting. But the off-hand comment about Malik worried him.

Would Ishizu really be the best person to reach out to, when her brother was set on claiming the Millennium Puzzle for himself? He had thought the Ishtars might be his best bet for directing him to unknown hiding places, hand him some kind of map of the puzzle that would lead him to Yugi. But now he wasn’t sure. His mind turned to the white room from last night. For the first time in millennia he had encountered something _else_ in the puzzle. Goosebumps scattered up his neck. Could it be a trap? Laid for him within the puzzle?

The spirit snarled at the thought, the _audacity_ of someone to even attempt such a thing! Then he caught himself, and quickly straightened to wave lightly at Sugoroku’s curious expression. “Jounouchi’s on his way over, I’m going to get ready to head out!”

He retreated from the kitchen, and grabbed Yugi’s black jacket and backpack. New traps or old horrors, Ishizu might know something. Nothing to do but seek answers.

***

What with only recently being discharged, Yugi’s friends had eagerly assembled. Jounouchi had managed to get a hold of Anzu and Honda, and together the four of them crammed into the row of seats at the very back of the bus. Their shoulders and knees bumped together as they jostled towards the Domino City Museum. 

Jounouchi took up most of the ride with a fuming rant about “that bastard Malik”, still riled up about the dirty fight and the fire. The spirit silently agreed, but knew that Yugi would likely, somehow, be more forgiving. Not entirely sure what his partner would say in Malik’s defense, he only lightly admonished him in a loose facsimile of Yugi.

“Let’s not get carried away. I don’t know about Malik, but I’m hoping Ishizu will know more about what happened.”

Jounouchi scoffed at that, and opened his mouth to add more to his list of grievances, but stopped short to get Honda’s attention at something passing outside the bus. “Honda! That’s the place I was telling you about! With the _girls-_ ”

Anzu, sandwiched between Yugi and the other window, made a face, and ignored them to pass a thoughtful gaze over Yugi. “So what’re you doing going to Ishizu? Did something change with the spirit in the puzzle? I thought you and the other Yugi wanted to figure out his memories on your own.”

The spirit adjusted his grip on the backpack on his lap, lightly gauzed hands hugging it to him with the golden pyramid hidden from view. He wanted to be honest with Yugi’s friends, but wasn’t ready for a reckoning about the real Yugi’s disappearance quite yet. _Yugi will be back soon_.

He opted for some vague middle ground. “We still have no real idea who the spirit is, aside from being a Pharaoh, or what the real purpose of the puzzle is.” This was true. “With more people coming after it, I think the more we know, the better prepared we can be.” Also true.

But Anzu was right and everything had changed since that fire. And the questions in his mind were suffocating. What happened when Yugi reassembled the puzzle? What was now lurking in the puzzle? How could he undo Yugi’s persistent absence? Was Yugi safe? Would the spirit ever feel whole again, the bright white of Yugi’s soul smoothing out the ragged edges of his own—

He squeezed Yugi’s backpack until a corner of the puzzle dug into his chest, sharp edges grounding him to the physical presence he occupied. He didn’t give a damn about his _name_ or his _memories_. He’d trade anything and everything in a heartbeat for Yugi’s immediate return. 

“But everything has been okay since you put the puzzle back together?”

The gentle question struck like a viper. She must have seen something like panic in his eyes, because she graciously backed off. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be nosy. We’d just never seen you like that before. You were so crazy about putting the puzzle together, and we were all really scared for you.”

The spirit ached, barely able to tolerate the image of a desperate Yugi, surrounded by flames while the spirit floundered in darkness. He felt like he might turn to dust under the enormity of his failure to protect Yugi. “I was scared too,” was all he could offer.

She nodded, like his acknowledgement was apology enough. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, and I hope the other you is also doing okay.”

The spirit swallowed back the _me too_ that threatened to escape. “Thanks Anzu,” he said and changed the topic. “By the way, you didn’t have to bring so many flowers to the hospital.” Yugi would absolutely have thought it was too much, had he been around to see it.

She blushed furiously at that. “W-well I tried to visit every day but you were sleeping so much and I didn’t want you to feel lonely when you woke up!”

Jounouchi overhead _that_ and grinned lewdly at her. “All those were from _you_? What, got a crush on Yugi now?”

“It’s not like that!” she shouted. Two women at the front of the bus spun around to scowl at her. Anzu lowered her voice. “Make fun all you want. What did you guys even do for him, smuggle dirty magazines and junk food into the hospital?”

“Just the once!” Jounouchi laughed. “I’ve always got Yugi’s best interests at heart, and you know it!” He slung an arm around Yugi’s shoulder and ruffled his hair. The ruffle became a noogie as Jounouchi winked, “It was a good one, too bad the nurse confiscated it!”

The spirit bore the indignity with a forced laugh and tried to duck away. He knew Yugi relished this kind of teasing affection from his best friend, for all his shy blushes, but it still felt too strange, too invasive having others touching him when Yugi wasn’t present inside.

“Hey guys, this is our stop,” Honda interrupted just in time for them to clamber out the back door. And just like that, the spirit and Yugi’s friends found themselves standing in front of the magnificent entrance of the Domino City Museum. Doric pillars towered over them, huge banners streaming down from the roof dramatically splashed with images of the pyramids of Giza and a looming depiction of Anubis, with the black head of a jackal. The spirit stared at it hard, couldn’t quite name the feeling the image stirred in him. Resentment? Fear?

“You know, even with all the weird shit going on lately, I’ve really been wanting to check this out.” Honda looked at the banners appraisingly.

The spirit tried to take hold of Honda’s enthusiasm and wholesome interest.

“Let’s go find Ishizu. Maybe we’ll have time to check out the exhibit afterwards.”

***

Ishizu Ishtar was not easy to find, much to the spirit’s chagrin. As they asked around, every employee knew _who_ she was (one in particular seemed aghast that anyone would voluntarily seek her out. ‘ _That nut told me my wife was going to leave me! Can you believe that? I love my wife!’_ ), but seemed hard-pressed to think of where her office might be. They were eventually directed to a basement hallway lined with doors. Offices tucked far enough away from the public areas of the museum to let employees work without disruption. A few doors were labeled “Research”. For some, a glass panel allowed them to peek inside at windowless but well-lit rooms. In most of them, people were working at computers. One had a girl with a pile of rocks spread over a table photographing each one individually. Academics.

Ishizu’s office turned out to be a small, temporary space assigned to her for the duration of the exhibit. A sticky label with her name handwritten on it had been placed haphazardly on the centre of the door. Anzu brightly announced them with a “sorry to disturb you, Ms. Ishtar” and a sharp rap on the door. When there was no response, Jounouchi jostled the locked handle. 

Honda seemed relieved, pointing out that there wasn’t even any light coming from under the door, and encouraged everyone to follow him back upstairs to get tickets. At least they could check out the exhibit while they were there.

“Jounouchi, you might even learn something!” he ribbed as they strolled past three huge stone tablets marking the entrance to the special exhibition.

Anzu followed, unfolding a large brochure with a map of the museum. “We should start with the left corridor; it’s set up to walk us through ‘ _ancient Egyptian_ _games as a path to eternal life’_. Ooh — there’s even a mummy!”

The spirit lagged behind, turning to look up at the stone tablets. They loomed high above him, nearly filling the museum’s atrium, and featured gods and men performing ancient rites. He supposed he once would have known _all_ the rituals expected of a Pharaoh. He traced a hieroglyph, a plain ankh. A fine clay dust clung to his fingers - just a plaster replica, not real stone, then. He felt that, in some way, he was the same. A fake version — of Yugi, or the Pharaoh he once was. Convincing in certain lighting, as long as you didn’t look too closely, but incomparable to the real thing.

Where Yugi’s friends had gone ahead, he could hear their joking laughter and awed murmurs. He didn’t feel up to following them, keeping up his pretense. He was aware of the buzz of activity in the Museum, clusters of people chatting and wandering through the atrium and stepping around him to enter the exhibit. Too many bodies, too close to him.

The spirit took a steadying breath, trying to mentally distance himself from the frenetic hum of activity in this place, find some semblance of calm in his mind. He could take the corridor to the right, where there were less people. And as he looked down that dim hallway, something he didn’t recognize seemed to _turn_ within him and the physical world suddenly seemed far away. The air stilled before his eyes. It was, to his senses, hazy with shadows, both natural and supernatural. Muffled silence.

If he dreamed in the puzzle, it might feel like this.

A hand of cool air pressed gently against his cheek. A calmness that he hadn’t known in too many days touched his mind. He felt like he might drift right out of Yugi’s body from his delirious relief. _Aibou?_

“ _Yugi Mutou_.”

Well if that wasn’t a voice that could curdle milk. The spirit spun around, yanked from his reverie.

“Kaiba,” he snapped. He felt like he’d been doused with a bucket of water. Whatever he’d sensed had evaporated from the air around him. He had a resentful taunt on his tongue before remembering he was supposed to _be_ Yugi and not actively sabotage his partner’s friendships (as tenuous as this particular one might be). He swallowed the insult and lamely continued: “It’s good to see you. What brings you to the museum?”

Seto did not reciprocate the cordial effort. “Business.” He crossed his arms, and looked Yugi up and down, eyes pausing on the bandaged hands. “I see you have been getting into trouble, as usual.”

“No more than usual,” the spirit lightly disagreed while fighting to keep his arms relaxed at his sides. His mind was still on the corridor behind him. He wanted to run into it, rip everything down to bare walls til his nails bled, break it all apart, find whatever had been drifting in there and _devour_ it, as though it could make him whole again. He kept his voice steady as he continued, “This exhibit is supposed to be excellent. Have you seen it yet?”

“Kaiba Corp sponsors all of Domino City Museum’s highest profile exhibits.” He sniffed at Yugi, still critically eyeing him as though he wanted to simultaneously burn him into nothing and drag him into the nearest dueling arena.

“So you haven’t seen it.”

“Unlike you and your half-wit friends, I don’t have time for children’s stories or ancient history.”

“That’s a pity, I’m sure it’s something Mokuba would enjoy seeing with his big brother.” Damn it, the real Yugi did not _sass_ his classmates. He huffed a sigh, mostly at himself. He knew something Yugi _would_ say, so he added “I _am_ here with my friends. If your meeting hasn’t started yet, do you want to see it with us?” No risk asking, since he knew the answer.

Seto scoffed, but stopped short of responding. Someone else caught his eye.

Ishizu Ishtar had arrived, tall and graceful in a crisply pressed skirt and jacket, white blouse buttoned high enough to hide the Millennium Tauk the spirit knew was clasped around her neck. Her piercing blue eyes were lined in thick black liner and heavy gold jewelry weighted her wrists and ears. She was as beautiful and as _eerie_ as the first time they’d met. Unease twisted in his gut, and he couldn’t help but cross his arms like some sort of protection from her perceptive third eye.

“Ms. Ishtar, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

The tone made the spirit cock an eyebrow. Seto certainly didn’t _sound_ pleased. What must she have said, to get him to come here when he clearly didn’t want to be?

Ishizu looked between Yugi and Seto, indifferent to the chilly reception. Delight shone in her eyes. Her expression disturbed him, and the spirit hoped this unusual woman couldn’t see that it was not the real Yugi before her.

“Mr. Kaiba,” she offered a polite nod, and turned to Yugi. “Your excellency” she addressed the spirit with a low bow.

The spirit choked on a surprised cough. “Please, don’t. Yugi is fine,” he nearly begged, while Seto groaned.

“You’re still on that ‘pharaoh’ nonsense?”

“I assure you, it’s not nonsense,” Ishizu chided. “And I am pleased you accepted my offer to come by the exhibit, Mr. Kaiba. I promise you’ll find it illuminating.”

“I’m not here for revelations. I’m here about what we discussed.”

She chose not to acknowledge that, and leveled her gaze on the spirit instead. “And Yugi. Truly remarkable you felt called to visit the exhibit at the same time.”

“Actually, I came here to speak with you, Ishizu. In private.” He ignored Seto’s stare. Both of them, in fact, staring at him. His skin crawled, feeling exposed under their scrutiny. Did Ishizu already know about her brother’s attempt to steal the puzzle? The broken pieces and the fire? Could she see that Yugi was _missing_?

“Of course,” she agreed somberly and he shuddered. “We can go to my office, but first I must show Mr. Kaiba what his generous sponsorship has allowed us to bring to Domino. Would you care to join us?”

The spirit was certain he would rather _not._ “You know what, I’ll catch up with my friends, and see you at the end.” Let Seto deal with whatever doomsday prophecy Ishizu was undoubtedly going to burden him with.

Ishizu nodded gracefully, unperturbed, and gestured for Seto to follow her into the exhibit.

The spirit could have sworn Seto hissed _coward_ under his breath as he swept by, but as soon as the pair passed the corner, the spirit turned back to the dim corridor to the right.

***

The artifacts in this section of the exhibit were statues carved in obsidian, softly lit from above. Fist-sized scarabs, decorative knives, watchful falcons. The spirit peered at them through their protective glass cases, but didn’t linger on any one item for long. They were beautiful, no doubt, but no trace of magic lingered among them. Whatever he had sensed earlier was no longer here. A vent from above blasted frigid air into the room.

Had that ghostly hand been nothing but a draft? Was that all there was left of Yugi? Desperate imaginings?

No. He tried to shake away the grief. He was here, standing in Yugi’s body. His soul was simply hidden, somewhere he couldn’t perceive. He was certain of it.

Though he did need Ishizu’s guidance. Everything here seemed entirely _normal_ aside from being priceless antiquities. He and Ishizu were holding the only items of any power in this place. If there was anything else here that might help him, it was invisible to his senses.

“Woah, there you are! How’d you get ahead of us?” Honda and Yugi’s other friends had rounded the corner from another section and spotted him.

“Yeah man, we thought we lost you back at the embalmment stuff,” Jounouchi gave an exaggerated shudder. “Seriously creepy shit. Do you think the Other Yugi is in a bunch of jars somewhere?”

“Don’t be gross,” Anzu gave him a light smack. “It’s an incredibly symbolic burial ritual, and you shouldn’t disrespect the Other Yugi.”

The spirit shrugged. “The pharaoh was probably buried in a similar way.” He didn’t want to think too hard about his ancient body, wrapped in oil and linen and preserved in a forgotten tomb with the Ishtars.

“What did the Other Yugi think of the exhibit?” Anzu asked.

“He, uh, didn’t see anything too interesting. At least nothing that seemed to point to who he was.” The spirit didn’t know what else to say without giving away that the Other Yugi was in fact the one running around in Yugi’s body full time right now, and had not actually checked out most of the displays. “But I did run into Kaiba and Ishizu.”

“What? Where are they now?”

“She wanted to show him around. She’s going to meet us at the end so we can talk.”

“Museums don’t seem like the sort of thing that guy would care about,” Honda said.

The spirit also doubted that Seto had come to meet Ishizu for a simple tour. She seemed apt at luring people in with a subtle pretext and then dropping ‘mind-blowing truth-bombs’, as Yugi had once called it. She must have had some kind of leverage over Seto. “I think she wanted to talk to him about something,” Reincarnation and prophecies, most likely, he thought to himself. “I hope they finish up soon.”

“We finished a little sooner than expected,” Ishizu interrupted from behind them. The entire group spun to look at her. And the spirit noticed—

“Did Kaiba leave already?”

“He was somewhat distressed by our conversation,” she said airily. “He needed some time to think.”

“What on earth could ‘distress’ that guy?” Jounouchi said, shocked.

“A bad quarter?” Honda joked.

“What I revealed is for him alone to reckon with,” Ishizu deflected. “Though it might be good for his friends to check up on him sooner than later.”

The spirit caught her meaningful look, and wondered if maybe he should have been there to hear her _illuminating_ talk with Seto. Had it been something to do with him? “We’ll talk to him at school tomorrow, if he’s there,” he said over Jounouchi’s “That guy doesn’t have any friends!”

“That’s a good idea,” she said, as though she hadn’t been the one to tell them to seek him out in the first place. “But now, Yugi, it is you and I who are overdue for a conversation.”

“Damn right! After Malik nearly got Yugi killed in a fire, your family has some answering to do!” Jounouchi, always loyal and direct, was ready to go on a rampage for his friend.

“I am truly sorry. My brother has been out of control for some time now. I had hoped the Pharaoh would be able to stop him.” She kept her strangely luminous eyes on Yugi, and the spirit felt his hands turn clammy. “It seems that was not possible as you currently are.”

“It’s not Yugi’s fault!” Anzu jumped in. “Your brother is out there mind-controlling people, and trying to steal Millennium Items! What have _you_ done to stop him?”

“Perhaps we should take this to my office.” Ishizu gave a pointed glance to eavesdropping bystanders. A handful of curious museum visitors abruptly turned back to peruse the exhibit.

The group grumbled an agreement, and held their questions and accusations until they were safe from outside ears. The spirit felt his pulse quicken during the short walk back to the basement. He was going to get _answers_. Any insight she could offer had to be better than his current uncertainties and speculations.

Ishizu snapped her office door shut behind them. “Forgive the cramped quarters. I don’t always get the best real estate when traveling with the exhibit. I must make due with whatever temporary space the hosting institution can spare me.”

Cramped was an understatement. Her office was more like a closet, stiflingly warm and dusty, with a desk occupying most of the windowless space and a single chair. The room was stacked full of boxes with varying labels of “FRAGILE” and “THIS WAY UP” pointing every direction, and promotional posters for past shows were heaped on nearly every available space with no discernable order or care.

“It’s fine,” the spirit said before anyone could complain, and he sat lightly on one of the free boxes. “How much do you know about what your brother has been up to?”

“As I said, I’m very sorry he attacked you in such a way.” For once the calm mask of Ishizu’s face seemed to falter. “He is truly disturbed, and I had not realized he was becoming so strong.”

“How’s he doing it?” Anzu perched on a box beside Yugi. “Something to do with the Millennium Items?”

“Indeed, he’s been using them to grow his control of the Shadow Realm. I believe he has also been making sacrifices to further bolster his power.” The spirit’s expression soured at her words, but she continued with worse news. “I had thought my brother only held the Rod, but I recently discovered he has stolen another artefact that had been carefully hidden by our family.”

“Not your necklace?” Anzu exclaimed, but Ishizu shook her head, and pulled down her collar just enough to reveal the golden orb nestled at the hollow of her neck.

“The Key,” she told them. At their confused looks, she continued. “It is also one of the seven Millennium Items. Like a regular key, it can close and open certain doors. In this case, doors of the heart.” She gave the spirit an apologetic look.

The spirit’s face was ashen. “Is that what-” he stopped himself. “So how do we stop him?”

“With both the Key and the Rod in his possession, it is very difficult to get close to him,” she admitted. “It would take the Pharaoh, at his full strength, to stop him and take back all the items.”

“Full strength? You mean, by restoring the Other Yugi’s memories?” Anzu pressed.

Ishizu nodded. “That, and more. A fractured or incomplete soul has no chance against him. Regaining those memories and restoring the Pharaoh becomes more vital with every day my brother continues to roam free. He’s been poisoned by darkness, and it has turned him vengeful and cruel.” Her words came out steadily but her face betrayed her broken heart. “Now he uses others to carry out his work. With a soul locked away by the Key, and a mind under the Rod’s control, he will be able to manipulate all but the strongest wielders of the Millennium Items. I fear it’s only a matter of time before he comes back for me and our family.”

The spirit sucked in a breath, but it was Anzu who curiously asked the question he couldn’t seem to get out. “So souls that are locked away, where do they go?”

Ishizu looked like she wanted to reach out to the spirit, offer a reassuring touch, and addressed him instead of Anzu when she answered. “Why, not far at all. Souls will stay in their body, asleep in their soul room. The body will be fine, but empty of their spirit. I suppose you can think of it as a loved one in a coma. At least, as long as they aren’t turned into _puppets_ by the Rod.”

Maybe not the most reassuring analogy, but the spirit felt buoyed by the information. Yugi was close by. Sleeping. He let himself be pacified by the thought.

“I’m sorry, I have _no idea_ what you guys talking about,” Honda interrupted, exchanging a skeptical look with Jounouchi. “Pharaohs and souls were a lot before, but now there’s mind-control?”

“No, I got it,” Jounouchi proclaimed. “We just gotta find the Other Yugi’s memories like we were planning to, and kick Malik’s ass to the curb. Yugi can handle that, no problem! We won’t let anyone’s soul get locked up!”

Ishizu blinked at him, clearly doubtful that Jounouchi actually _got it._ She glanced at the Other Yugi sitting stiffly before her, then collected herself. “I hope it will be that simple.” To the spirit she said: “If you are finally ready to start searching for your lost memories, I can provide you with some scrolls you can read. They contain valuable information from the times of the Pharaoh. I believe they may help you to restore your memories and your soul. But be cautious, I expect it may be an overwhelming experience once you begin.”

The spirit nodded. He may not care much for learning about his past self, but… anything for Yugi.

Ishizu produced a wooden box from under her desk, as though she had been keeping it at hand for this exact moment. It was modest in style and size. “This contains replicas of the original papyrus created by my ancestors. Even so, they are fragile, so be gentle with them.”

Jounouchi snatched it from her hands. “That’ll be real helpful. Right guys, let’s get out of here!”

“Jounouchi! You can’t just grab stuff like that!” Anzu exclaimed, appalled. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Ishtar, we promise to be careful with them.”

She looked unconvinced that Yugi’s friends were up to the task. “Please do, and keep them safe.”

“We’ll protect them, don’t worry! Thanks for your help, ma’am!” Joey threw a lazy salute at Ishizu, and then under his breath complained “Let’s go, I’m dying in here,” to his friends. He was followed out the door by Honda and Anzu, both berating him for his rudeness but equally keen to escape the stifling office. Ishizu watched them leave with a grimace, and then looked back at the Other Yugi.

The spirit hadn’t moved from his seat.

“Is there something else?” Ishizu asked.

“Would… Yugi’s soul be locked in the puzzle instead? Is that something the Key would do?”

Ishizu tilted her head quizzically. “Unlikely. The Puzzle is not designed for that. It only serves as a conduit between this world and the Shadow Realm. He should be in his own soul room, unaware of your ordeal. Apparently, much the same as your friends.” The criticism was clear. “What makes you ask?”

“Is there anything I should know about the Puzzle? Did it ever contain something… other than me?”

Alarm flashed across her face. “Have you discovered something?”

He thought of that room of fog, the presence, the warning he had felt from the shadows. “No,” he lied.

She pursed her lips but didn’t press for more. “May I offer some advice in any case.”

“Anything except a prophecy.”

She let out a good-natured laugh and continued. “Yugi’s friends may be better allies to you, if they know what’s going on.”

He immediately shook his head at this suggestion. “I don’t want them to worry about Yugi. Worrying won’t fix this. And this is only temporary.” The last part was a reassurance for himself, though with this new information, he wasn’t sure how long it would be before he could get the Key from Malik.

“It’s not about making them worry about Yugi, it’s about letting them trust _you_.”

The word _trust_ was like a stake in his heart. It had taken a while for Yugi to trust the Spirit of the Puzzle, for them to find their common ground. And he had betrayed that cherished gift by failing to protect him from Malik, from that fire. That disappointment alone was crushing. He didn’t think he could bear for it to be further multiplied by Yugi’s friends and family. They hardly knew more about the Spirit of the Puzzle than the fact he existed, some ancient being, some dark and imperfect mirror of Yugi. They would hate him for not protecting Yugi’s soul, call him a selfish ghost, accuse him of stealing Yugi’s body for himself.

When he said nothing, she added “Being vulnerable takes an incredible amount of strength. But it is needed to bolster the trust of your friends. You will need _all_ of them by your side to stop my brother.”

The spirit kept his expression flat. “You mean Kaiba.”

“He is a powerful soul, and destined to fight on your behalf, as much as he may resist it right now.”

“Is that what you talked to him about?”

“You know me. Reincarnation and prophecies.”

She winked and it might have been funny if it hadn’t felt like she was toying with him. Where minutes ago she had been reassuring, concerned like an older sister, that gleam in her eyes was back. Maybe Jounouchi was right, and the Millennium Items slowly consumed the minds of their bearers until they were beyond recognition. He was suddenly nauseous in her presence and stood to leave. “Thank you for your help.”

“It is my honour to be of service to you,” she said, sincere once again. “If anything comes up that I can help you with, please come back to the Museum. Until then, good luck and be careful.”

***

Yugi’s friends had waited for him outside the museum. They said quick goodbyes, and Jounouchi handed him the box from Ishizu, while Anzu reminded him of the homework due on Monday. With that, they split up to head home, and the spirit hopped on the bus bound for the game shop.

The ride felt longer now that he was alone. He leaned Yugi’s forehead against the window, gazed into the reflection of Yugi’s eyes. It was almost like the times they were together, Yugi navigating the real world, while the spirit followed, disguised as his shadow, his reflection, a transparent apparition at his side. Always close, with lively conversation thrumming between their linked minds. He tried to find peace in the idea that his partner was sleeping. Tucked away in his comfortable soul room.

But what he would give to hear Yugi’s voice now. How he would relish in his partner’s steadfast assurance that they would be strong enough to fight anything, as long as they were together. Would the spirit be strong enough to take back the Items from Malik? Able to restore all of his memories? _Of course_ , Yugi would say with unwavering conviction. The spirit never understood how he had earned that boundless faith Yugi placed in him, but he wanted to prove him right. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Well fuck.”

As soon as he was in Yugi’s room, the spirit had opened the box from Ishizu. Within it were six scrolls. When fully unfurled each one stretched well over twice his height. And they were covered, front and back, in hieratic script. Not even painted with illustrations, like some of the ones on display at the museum, but just row upon tiny row of tidy symbols. Indecipherable.

He roughly rolled them back up. His past self may have been a pharaoh, but whatever was described here was beyond his reach. He wasn’t sure what he had expected from Ishizu, but this was beyond useless. He wondered if there was a safe way to ask Yugi’s grandfather for help.

There was a knock at the door, and Yugi’s mother poked her head in. “Everything going okay with your homework?”

The spirit glanced at the untouched stack of textbooks and handouts, and made to pull one towards himself, act as though he was now starting a new subject. “Yeah, I’m getting through it.”

“That’s great. Study hard, but don’t stay up too late.” Instead of leaving, she opened the door a little more, as though seeking permission. “Grandpa said you didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Ahh, I didn’t, but I think I’ll be fine tonight. I’ll try to finish up soon.”

She stood there, as though expecting more, and the spirit wondered what part of this interaction he was missing. He cast about for something else to say. Something _Yugi_. “Um, if I don’t come back downstairs later, have a good night? I love you, mama.”

That seemed to do the trick, and she stepped closer to smooth an affectionate hand over his wild hair, plant a kiss on the top of his head. “I love you too, sweetheart.” She hesitated, and in that pause the spirit noticed how her eyes resembled Yugi’s. “If you need to talk about what happened… I’m always here for you. And I’m so glad you’re home and safe.”

The spirit felt his face flush with something like shame, caught in a lie, but she didn’t notice and left the room without another word.

He turned a scowl on the scrolls, unsure of what he could do, but silently swore to himself _he’ll be back home soon._

***

He didn’t dream, so this wasn’t a dream.

He had been here before.

The same heavy fog encased him. 

The same silence.

But he knew now that he wasn’t alone in this place. There was something else in the fog. Waiting for him to move first.

It was better to face a fear than run away. If someone had set a trap for him within the puzzle, he would not forgive the trespasser.

He strode purposely forward, expecting to hear the invisible Other approach. But there were no responding footsteps against the stone.

He took another step.

Still nothing.

He tried to listen. Not even a warning hum from the shadows in his mind. 

Was it gone?

He waved his arms through the mist, as if cutting a path, and continued forward blindly.

Nothing came for him, so he kept walking, searching.

Like the rest of the Puzzle, this place had no sense of time passing, of direction or distance beyond the surety of his feet stepping over smooth stone bricks. The ground never changed, and the fog never thinned.

A hundred paces. A thousand. He lost count. If something had been here before, it was empty now.

Maybe there had never been anything here in the first place. There had been plenty of times in even the most familiar areas of the puzzle that, during his long solitude, he’d thought he wasn’t alone. A little lingering madness was to be expected.

He closed his eyes, deciding to return to Yugi’s body, follow that ever-present pull back to the one thing that tethered him to the world of the living.

But when he opened his eyes he was still surrounded by white fog, and panic seized his heart.

***

“Yugi, what are you doing up so late?” Sugoroku looked up from a jigsaw puzzle, nearly finished, on the coffee table.

His grandson was standing in the doorway, casting a curious gaze around the room. His eyes landed on his grandfather and hardened.

“Is everything okay?”

Yugi didn’t reply. They stared at each other, and the temperature in the room plunged. Sugoroku felt the prickle of goosebumps down his arms, the hair rising on the back of his neck. Some primal instinct was shouting _that’s not Yugi_.

With no warning, between one blink and the next, Yugi shifted away, a soundless and unnatural angle to his movement.

Sugoroku sat, paralyzed for a moment, before galvanizing himself to follow his grandson.

There was no sign of him in the hallway. The door to Yugi’s room was ajar, yellow lamplight pouring out.

He tiptoed towards it, softly pushed the door open— and sighed.

Yugi was asleep at his desk. Had he been sleepwalking? Sugoroku still felt unnerved. But the Yugi before him looked familiar and innocent, even drooling a little on a half-complete trigonometry worksheet.

He reached out, planning to wake him gently, send him to sleep in his bed.

As soon as his hand touched his shoulder Yugi let out a wild gasp, a desperate and guttural noise as though emerging from the depths of a pool. He bolted upright and the lamplight flickered, curtains danced in a breeze — was the window open? — and Yugi was starting at him wide eyed, sucking in heaving breaths, quivering like a leaf in a storm. His mouth gaped, trying to form words, but something closer to a sob came out.

“It’s okay, my boy.” Sugoroku took the shaking boy into his arms. “It was just a nightmare.”

The spirit let out a muffled wail, and clung to Yugi’s grandfather tightly.

***

Sugoroku encouraged him to change into pyjamas, brought him a glass of water, and sat at the edge of the bed, rubbing soothing circles in his back for a time, until the shaking stopped. The spirit was too rattled to feel self-conscious about it. Sugoroku tried to lighten the mood, joking about the fright Yugi gave him from sleepwalking, but the horror on his grandson’s face made him drop the topic instantly.

Other than that, the spirit accepted the tender attention from Yugi’s grandfather, until eventually he flicked the lights off, bid him a soft _sleep well_ and left, leaving the door cracked open.

The spirit stared into the night, positive he could never sleep again.

He couldn’t risk leaving Yugi’s body, vacant and vulnerable to the Other Thing in the puzzle. Is this how Yugi had felt in those early days after solving the puzzle? If he had, the spirit felt profoundly guilty.

He still felt waves of terror at being trapped in that endless white room. Shadows now pressed against him in a protective blanket, instinctively responding to his fear. Fat lot of use they’d been in the puzzle. The spirit dismissed them with a thought, and they dispersed to join the soft night of Yugi’s bedroom.

He waited until the house was still and quiet, Yugi’s family sound asleep, and slipped out of the bed to sit at the desk once again. If he wasn’t going to sleep, he could at least be productive.

He drew a scroll from the box, unfurled it and gazed at it for a long while without really looking. Then he flicked the desk lamp on once again and smoothed out the thin paper, ready to glare at the symbols, study them until they made sense, will them into coherency.

But he didn’t have to. The script on the page before him swam before his eyes, and settled into a pattern that he could decipher. He placed the paper down, and stared at the wall. He _was_ losing his mind. He shouldn’t be able to read this. But when he looked again, it still made sense.

“ _The sky is at peace, the earth is in joy, for they have heard that ---------- will set Ma’at in the place of Asfet…”_

The Pharaoh’s name was missing, not just scratched out, but rather like the symbols had been lifted from the paper and banished by magic. Well, if he was honest with himself, that’s probably exactly what had happened.

He kept reading, words slowly shifting into focus. The first section of text in the scroll, written with a bright red ink, seemed to be mostly adulations to the character of the Pharaoh, his great deeds and the joy of his people. It was all a lot of fluff, and he felt no kinship, no connection to what was described.

His head was starting to hurt and he glanced at the alarm clock by Yugi’s bed. The numbers blinked at him. 3:23am. It was going to be a long night.

***

Despite his best efforts, Yugi’s body had fallen back to sleep. The spirit startled awake when Yugi’s mother knocked on the bedroom door. “Yugi! Get a move on, you’re going to be late for school!”

He swore under his breath, and stiffy kicked himself out of the chair and away from the desk, still strewn with paper. “I’m up! I’ll just be a minute!”

He looked himself over, searching for any sign that something else had once again possessed Yugi while he’d slept. But unsure what he was looking for, and not finding anything, he set about rushing to get ready, much like Yugi often did. He hurried through a shower, grabbed a school uniform from the closet, and stuffed Yugi’s backpack full of books and paper. He had no idea what Yugi’s class schedule was like, or what he’d need today, so crammed in everything that would fit. His hands paused over the scrolls — Yugi’s friends would likely have questions about them — so he selected one that was still rolled tightly and gingerly added it to the bag.

Yugi’s mother was drinking coffee and filling in the newspaper’s daily crossword when the spirit skidded into the kitchen. “You’re going to be late,” she said absently.

“I’m not,” he disagreed, snatching an apple from the fruit bowl and grabbing the lunch bag waiting for him on the counter. The spirit was pretty sure it was usually Yugi’s task to pack it himself, so on his way out the door he threw a “Thank you for making my lunch,” over his shoulder.

“Thank your Grandpa. He’s downstairs in the shop.” She finally lifted her head to look at him over her reading glasses. “Did you sleep alright?”

“Mm,” he said around the apple, already closing the door behind him. He froze, remembering something important, and hastily doubled back to plant a kiss on her cheek. “Gotta run!”

“Have a good day,” she said, though the door had already swung shut after him. She rolled her eyes with a smile, and returned to the paper.

On the first floor, where the game shop was, the spirit spotted Yugi’s grandfather crouched and shuffling through a storage cabinet. He paused long enough to say “Thanks for packing lunch.”

Sugoroku yelped and looked embarrassed at being caught off guard. “Of course, Yugi,” he said after calming himself. “I was worried you might sleep in today.”

To the spirit’s massive relief he didn’t mention last night’s ‘sleepwalking’ but he still found himself set upon by a grave look. “You remember when you solved the puzzle, I told you there were stories of dark magic locked in it­—”

Never mind, this was definitely a worse topic than the spirit’s living, walking, nightmares.

Sugoroku could see the dread in his grandson’s face, seemed to realize he’d have only a moment before Yugi shut him down, and quickly continued, “I know you keep saying there’s nothing dark in it but if you’ve been feeling… not like yourself, it might be a good idea to take it off.”

The puzzle would come off exactly _never_ , until Yugi himself chose to remove it. “Nothing is wrong with me _or_ the puzzle.” The words came out far too defensive. He checked his tone. “Can we talk about this later? I’ve got to get to school.”

Sugoroku’s concern was palpable, but he gave in to the evasion. “After school, then. Have a good day, Yugi.”

“Bye, Grandpa,” he said with forced civility, and fled out the front door of the shop. 

Outside, he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He did _not_ want to navigate these conversations without Yugi. Hated speaking on his behalf when Yugi should be here to use his own voice. Normally it would be easy to laugh at Sugoroku’s warnings of _darkness in the puzzle_ , a private joke between him and his partner, but after last night… well. The spirit wasn’t laughing anymore. 

He heaved a sigh and tried to focus on a single and immediate priority, something that ought to be far less concerning to deal with: Yugi needed to be present at school today. He’d missed nearly two weeks of class since the fire, and Yugi was a good student, but not for much longer if the absences continued to stretch on. Yugi had recently started to stress over his impending university entrance examinations (the spirit had been surprised to learn that _King of Games_ was, apparently, not a suitable career choice). So he knew how important it was to his partner, and vaguely understood the implications if he _fucked this_ _up_ before Yugi was back.

So right now, that was the task.

He knew it was a bit of a walk to the school. He’d followed Yugi there and back enough times to know the way. On those days he would drift beside him and they would pass the time getting to know each other. Building trust.

The bus would be quicker, but the spirit didn’t trust it, had no idea what time the it came, if he’d missed it already. So he set towards Jounouchi’s house, which he would pass on the way to school. He hoped to catch Yugi’s friend so they could at least arrive late together.

As he walked, the morning sunlight felt purifying. It warmed Yugi’s shoulders and drained away the tension held there. Banished the crawling itch that came with the knowledge that _something else_ had inhabited Yugi last night. And it felt safer, outdoors in the daylight, to ponder what _it_ might be, as though he was far enough removed from the shadows to inadvertently give it power over him. He knew better than most how swiftly darkness could hook itself around careless thoughts and take over one’s mind.

He still wasn’t sure if _it_ was something placed there by an enemy, or if it had always lurked deep in the puzzle, some unknown prison-mate hiding beyond his awareness for millennia. Either option seemed terrible, especially now knowing it had the power to take his place in Yugi’s body and block him out. It made the spirit angry, that something or someone had not just trespassed against the threshold of his puzzle, but now also over his partner. It was unforgivable. He wanted to confront it, reveal its face, and _smite_ it.

“Woah, Yugi, everything okay?”

He had nearly walked into Jounouchi on the sidewalk.

The spirit let the dark look fall from his face. “Yeah, sorry. Just worried about getting to school on time.”

“You should’ve taken the bus! Not that I’m not glad you came by. Let’s get a move on. Mrs. Chono has been real strict about being at homeroom on time lately.”

This teacher must have been formidable, because Jounouchi took off at a jog, and the spirit had to run to keep up.

It paid off though — they hurried through the school gates before they closed, dashed down the halls, and Jounouchi loudly proclaimed “Made it!” as he dropped his school bag at his desk.

“Barely,” Honda said from his own seat behind Jounouchi’s desk. 

“I don’t know why you guys always cut things so close,” Anzu said, standing beside them with her arms crossed.

“We’re here, aren’t we?” Jounouchi would not be convinced that showing up in the nick of time was anything but a victory.

The spirit was still at the back of the classroom, scanning for clues of what he needed to do. He tucked Yugi’s lunch into an empty cubby, changed his shoes, and, based on the desks around him, removed the books he needed before hanging up Yugi’s backpack.

He took a seat at Yugi’s desk and looked uncertainly around the room. Now that he was here, he was starting to worry he was out of his depth. He had always left his partner to navigate things like _school_ on his own. Outside of Yugi’s friends, and the occasional bully (promptly sent packing to the Shadow Realm… at least, until Yugi had put a stop to that particular flavour of justice), he hardly knew anything about this place. He didn’t know the rules, the schedules, the teachers’ names, the expected behaviour. It had always seemed better for the spirit to just stay out of it, one less complication in Yugi’s complicated life.

Now he wished he’d paid at least a little attention.

“Yugi, how’d you find the homework?” Anzu asked.

“Um, I had some trouble with it.” He hadn’t devoted much time to it at all last night, skipping over _English_ and _Modern History_ and _Physics_ , to do the only subject he thought he might passably attempt — mathematics. The numbers and logic had come to him easily enough, but the long narrative questions were riddles written in kanji he couldn’t decipher, so he’d opted for scouring the indecipherable riddles in Ishizu’s scrolls instead. With the day now looming ahead of him, he regretted not giving Yugi’s assignments more effort. What if it took weeks or even _months_ to get Yugi back? What if he had to write _exams_ on his partner’s behalf? His stomach dropped.

“Maybe we could study together this week,” the spirit suggested, and Anzu beamed at him.

“Definitely!” She then lowered her voice to a whisper as their homeroom teacher swept into the class, “and let’s talk about the scrolls at lunchtime.”

Anzu stepped away to sit at her desk further back, and it was then that the spirit caught sight of Seto Kaiba, cheerlessly slouched at a desk in the back of the room. Their eyes met, and Seto’s lip curled in disgust, as though Yugi’s existence was a personal affront.

Well, whatever Ishizu had told Seto yesterday clearly wasn’t sitting well.

But there was no time for that right now. The spirit followed the lead of Yugi’s classmates and turned around to face the front of the class.

***

The morning passed in a blur. The spirit had stoically accepted two different reprimands for having no completed assignments to hand in, but had been spared detention when his friends exclaimed at the unfairness, that Yugi had been in hospital. The spirit agreed to himself, indignant on Yugi’s behalf since it truly wasn’t his partner’s fault. There was instead a well of frustration with himself — certain that he was letting his partner down in yet another way.

By the time lunch arrived he was starting to feel raw and overdrawn. But the hustle didn’t stop - now Yugi’s friends were ushering him towards a picnic table outside, shaded by a massive beech tree that was just starting to bud. It was still early in the spring with enough chill in the air that few other students wanted to eat outside. It made for a secluded place to talk openly.

“This is so cool!” Honda unfurled the scroll that the spirit had brought to school, smoothing it out over the length of the table so everyone could see it. It was so long it hung over both ends. “Was the Other Yugi able to read this?”

The spirit nodded. “Yes, though not at first. I— he—” He paused to collect his thoughts, voice them in a way that would preserve his false identity. “It’s not quite like reading. It’s like understanding it without really seeing the individual words.” The spirit wasn’t sure if that made sense. He didn’t even understand how it worked himself.

“It seemed like a lot of traditional burial texts,” he continued, “about the kind of ruler he was. But there wasn’t anything useful, like his name, or why he was sealed in the puzzle.”

There had, in fact, been plenty of specifics in what he’d read. A long-winded biography of the most impractical highlights of his life. Things like: Pharaoh once saved a pair of horses from a pit of quicksand. Pharaoh preferred tributes of gold and spices over slaves. Pharaoh was a skilled swimmer and admired for his athleticism. Pharaoh was an insouciant genius, and everyone was delighted to be beaten by him in games of senet. Pharaoh had his seven hairless cats lovingly embalmed alongside his body.

He was pretty sure no one needed to know those kinds of details.

“You’d think being such precious texts from Ishizu, they’d at least have known his name.” Jounouchi was as skeptical of her as he was of her brother.

Honda, who’d actually learned something at yesterday’s visit to the museum, mused aloud “That’s really weird it wouldn’t be included. The Egyptians thought a name was a part of the soul, and had to be preserved to be able to go on to the afterlife.”

The spirit thought about how it’d seemed his name had not just been omitted, but magically scrubbed from existence. Apparently it’d been _really_ important that his soul not move on. Every piece of him, down to his name, dismantled for eternity.

“In any case, they haven’t helped so far.”

Yugi’s friends looked briefly disheartened, but quickly rallied. “So what does this one say? Can the Other Yugi read it to us?”

The spirit looked down at the papyrus. Then leaned closer, ran a hand over the ink. The words stayed still. Any interpretation was impossible. “For some reason they’re not making sense right now. I don’t know why not.” What was happening to him?

“Maybe it only works when the Other Yugi is in control?” Jounouchi offered helpfully.

The spirit looked at him sharply, biting back a shout of _I_ am _the Other Yugi!_

Why hadn’t Yugi’s friends realised? How could no one notice? Were people really so blind? As much as he was the instigator in this charade of being Yugi, a self-inflicted suffering, the spirit was so frustrated. Yugi was _missing_ for nearly two weeks now, and he was feeling more helpless with each day that passed. 

Dammit, Ishizu might be right. Might. Perhaps he should come clean to Yugi’s friends, let at least this one weight off his chest and no longer be alone in this hunt. Let Yugi’s friends know that this was so much more than getting strong enough to reclaim the Items from Malik. Yugi’s own soul was at stake.

But the spirit was not an optimist by nature. He may have started innocently, but at this point would they understand why he had been hiding the truth from them? Would they share in his grief? Or instead accuse him of being a conspirator in Yugi’s disappearance? Be horrified at the deception?

“Maybe you’re still recovering from the fire,” Honda suggested. “Those were some pretty serious injuries. You can try again when you’re more rested?”

“You do look awfully tired,” Anzu observed.

The spirit felt like the will and the opportunity for him to speak the truth had quickly slipped away. A convenient guise had been provided by the genuine concern of Yugi's friends. “I am tired,” he admitted instead.

Yugi’s friends looked between themselves. “Maybe you should take the last half of lunch to rest, Yugi,” Anzu said softly.

The spirit started to protest, but Jounouchi stopped him. “It’s cool, dude. We all know you’ve been dealing with a lot with all this ancient Egyptian magic stuff lately. That and too many psychos coming after you and the puzzle. Sometimes you just need a minute for yourself,” he said with a surprising amount of sensitivity.

“We’ll see you back in class, alright? And don’t worry, we’re still going to help later.” Honda’s words echoed those of Yugi’s mother. All these people cared so deeply for Yugi, but would they be so generous with their help if they knew it was the Spirit of the Puzzle they were offering it to?

Jounouchi ruffled Yugi’s hair and Anzu gave him a light hug while Honda carefully rolled up the scroll, and a moment later the spirit was sitting at the shaded table on his own. He sat stiffly, hands balled into fists, before lowering his head to the table with a dejected _thump_.

He wasn’t just tired. He was _exhausted_. 

Maybe it was all too much for one person. One sort-of person, rather. Even if he had his memories, a name, all the other scattered pieces that would form his soul, he was sure that he would always need _Yugi_ in order to be complete. He would continue to feel like he was falling apart for as long as his partner was cut off from him. 

***

The afternoon wasn’t going any better.

Ishizu had oh-so-subtly _suggested_ he talk to Seto, and while the spirit was loath to do it (firstly, because he hadn’t fully forgiven Seto for kidnapping Yugi’s grandfather and forcing them to duel for his life, and secondly, because he hated being told what to do), he wasn’t above pursuing any possible avenue that might improve his chances of restoring Yugi. He couldn’t imagine what the CEO’s role might be in this endeavour, but if all he had to do for now was “check in on him”, he felt that this was at least one thing he could handle.

But the opportunity never presented itself. For the third time in a day, the spirit was scolded by one of Yugi’s teachers, this time for haughtily saying “I don’t know, ask someone else” when called upon to answer a question about a historical figure apparently everyone else knew about. A few students had giggled behind him, but not even Yugi’s friends could get him out of detention for that one. He still couldn’t understand why he was being punished for answering truthfully in the first place.

So where he might have approached Seto after school, the spirit had instead dutifully arrived, as instructed, at a second-floor classroom. It was mostly empty except for five students. An indifferent teacher sat at the front of the room grading papers. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to _do_ during detention. He watched as boy from another senior class arrived and told two of them they had to help clean the auditorium. One girl was diligently completing a series of worksheets. The two other boys were passing notes and doodling on the inside covers of their textbooks.

The spirit drummed his fingers, and stared out the window. He could hear a clock on the wall tick away the minutes. He was a patient being, capable of plotting and waiting for a well-laid trap to play out in a game, but this _inactivity_ was suffocating. While a far cry from mind-crushing torture, the mind-numbing _boredom_ did feel like a punishment. This was stupid. He was not a captive animal. Neither he nor Yugi deserved to be here. He stood up decisively and walked towards the door.

This got the teacher’s attention. “Is something wrong, Mr. Mutou?”

He rejected any pretense of feigning _Yugi-ness_. “This is pointless and I’m leaving,” he answered.

Gaping students and a sputtering teacher watched him go.

Thankfully no one followed him into the hallway. He suspected he would hear about it at home though. Sugoroku would likely be further motivated to talk about _darkness in the puzzle_ , especially with ‘Yugi’ uncharacteristically getting sent to detention. But going home wasn’t what he planned to do yet. The spirit wanted to go somewhere to think and to simply _be_ , undisturbed and without other people _staring_ or _asking if he was okay_ or _telling him what to do_ or _touching Yugi._ Under normal circumstances he might have retreated to the puzzle, but that hardly seemed like a good idea. Fortunately, he had an idea of somewhere he could go in the real world.

The roof of the school was one of the first places he’d spoken to Yugi outside of a duel or a fight. It was simple enough to access through the stairwells, the locked access door easily opened with a little coaxing of the shadows, and it was devoid of any other people. The barrier walls were too high to look over, but the late afternoon sun bathed the surface and a cool breeze stirred the air, and the spirit was content to bask in it.

He lay back on the warm tiles and took in the cloudless sky for a moment before crossing an arm over his eyes.

It was blissfully silent here. He could feel his breath, exhaling with Yugi’s body. He tried to imagine Yugi the first time they were here. It was nearly a year ago, and so many more memories had been created since then, but he could still picture it vividly. He had been so nervous, clasping the puzzle tight, demanding that whoever was in it come out to answer his questions. The spirit had known himself even less then, but had done his best to respond. Reassure the huge bright soul in that tiny human body. _I am here to protect you from those who would trespass against your heart._

So much for that. The once-fond memories were painful now, so he let the thoughts go, focused instead on each intake of air. Let it out slow. He had always found Yugi’s breathing oddly fascinating. He could pretend Yugi was here, that he was listening to his partner take his own breaths, with these lungs. He could imagine the two of them quietly lying here together, treasuring this respite from the rest of the world. A moment of peace.

The spirit exhaled, and as he thought it, he felt _peace_ wash over him.

The universe seemed to _invert_ , a haze between him and the world. He froze. This was not a passing cloud, blocking out the sun. This — this was what he’d felt before. At the museum. His own shock felt distant under the quilt of air that muffled his senses.

He focused on the _calm_ that wound itself close to his heart, let it smother the rising desperation in him. He knew this feeling. Craved it every moment. He didn’t know how, but it was Yugi. Reaching out to him. Nothing in the world could replicate this feeling.

A press of cold air settled on his chest, right over his heart. It was a frigid touch in the warm sun.

If he moved his arm from his face, would he see a vision of Yugi beside him, hovering close? This moment felt tenuous, like this connection would be lost if he moved even the slightest bit.

But he wanted to reach back. He did so the best way he knew, and called out in his mind: _Aibou_.

There was no answer.

“Talk to me, _Aibou_ ,” he begged out loud. The touch moved from his chest to his lips, the softest sensation, like a landing butterfly. An acknowledgement? An apology? It might have been the wind, if not for the familiar presence right there, next to his soul. Not quite touching as it ought to, but so close.

For the first time since Yugi’s disappearance, he thought he could sense it — the invisible barrier that lay between their soul rooms. He wanted to tear it down, use every shred of dark magic at his command to destroy everything in his way, let Yugi’s soul flow back in to intermingle with his. If only-

That damn Key. Malik would be sent to the furthest reaches of the shadow realm. Instead of _Pharaoh_ being wiped from existence, he would restore himself and return the punishment ten-fold. Ishizu wouldn’t even remember she _had_ a brother, when he was done. Maybe he’d wipe out all the Ishtars. Deliver a terrible and divine retribution.

Distracted by his violent fantasy, the moment broke and Yugi’s presence fell away. The spirit’s focus swung back to reality and his own emotions crashed over him. Disbelief. Desperation. Despair. And a white-hot rage.


	3. Chapter 3

The sun was starting to set. While the spirit still felt acutely deprived of Yugi’s absence, once again raw like an open wound, he rationally knew he couldn’t allow himself to wallow indefinitely. Granted, he was an ancient spirit and could likely keep it up for a good while, much like a well-deserved grudge. But there’s a point where self-pity turns to procrastination, so he hauled himself up, left the roof and passed through the empty school yard to begin a trudge home.

He may have walked out of detention, but he was fairly certain he would have to face Yugi’s family this evening. There was no avoiding it. He cringed at the thought of that impending confrontation. No matter how much he let slip today at school, it was important he be a convincing Yugi at home. Impossibly humble and diplomatic.

It would be fine though, he told himself. He had the whole walk home to mentally prepare himself. Come up with some kind of sensible excuse for Yugi’s behaviour, apologize for worrying them. Mostly he wanted to apologize to his partner.

The spirit didn’t make it more than a handful of steps beyond the school gate. A parked car revved to life beside him. He stopped and curiously watched the smooth descent of the rear window.

“For god’s sake, Yugi, where the hell have you been?” Seto Kaiba was in the back seat.

“… Were you _waiting for me_?” the spirit asked incredulously. The spirit could hardly believe that Seto was here, sitting in his plush car after school, acting for all the world as though he’d been horribly inconvenienced by Yugi’s tardiness. “I don’t recall us making any plans,” he added, suspicion taking over his surprise. While he _had_ wanted to ask Seto about his conversation with Ishizu, this was unexpected.

“I don’t have time for this, get in the car. It’s Mokuba.”

Yugi would perhaps be moved to compassion by the mention of the younger Kaiba, but the spirit crossed his arms. “Only if you promise to give me a lift straight home.” He was tempted to make it a shadow game, prevent any inadvertent _kidnappings_. But no… his partner would not approve. And Seto must have been desperate because he easily agreed. 

Seto flung the door open, and moved over to make room. “Fine, but you’d better have a damn good explanation for what’s happening,” he bit out.

This made the spirit pause. A hundred red flags were waving. Against his better judgement he cautiously entered the vehicle. “…What’s happening?” the spirit repeated as the door closed behind him.

“Mokuba was found outside after school today. Unconscious.”

He kept his expression carefully guarded. “I’m sorry, Kaiba. Did anyone see what happened?”

“No.” Seto fixed an icy stare on the spirit. “But Ishizu Ishtar told me it was going to happen because of _you_ , Yugi. Or whatever it is she’s convinced you that you are.” Seto’s disdain could sharpen Damascus steel.

The spirit mentally cursed her. Ishizu may claim to serve the nameless Pharaoh but she was going to be the death of him. He should have been far more specific — a lift home and _not murdered by Seto Kaiba_. “I promise, I have done nothing to your brother. What _exactly_ did Ishizu tell you?”

Seto’s glare shifted to the front of the car as he rolled up the little window between them and the chauffeur. “She called my office, told me she had information vital to Mokuba’s safety. But when I met with her it was all bullshit about reincarnation and destiny. How I once had one of those ridiculous Millennium Items and served _you_ in a past life.” The words seemed to give Seto heartburn.

The spirit may not be able to recall such a time, but there was a distant gratification to the idea of ordering around a proud and petulant Seto. He wisely said nothing, and waited for him to continue.

“She said a darkness was pursuing you, and if I didn’t accept my past and protect you from it, I would lose everything. And now this fucking happens the next day?” Seto was seething.

“How does that make it my fault?” he snapped back. The spirit hated being manipulated more than anyone, so he couldn’t resent Seto’s anger, but the insinuation that _he_ was responsible was too much.

The car slowed to a stop outside the game shop. Such a short drive. But Seto wasn’t done — he locked the doors. “Just tell me how to help Mokuba.”

“I don’t know how to help you, Kaiba. I’m dealing with my own problems.” The spirit’s own temper was simmering. He wanted to fight everyone. Ishizu. Malik. Seto. The world. Anything and everything in his way. Let it all burn in the name of bringing his partner back. “And open this door now. I promise you don’t want to be trapped in here with me.”

Seto must have heard the truth of the threat, seen something in the Yugi before him that was dangerous, because he edged back, just an inch, and unlocked the door.

The spirit exited the car, and before closing the door, found enough of Yugi’s civility in himself to say “I hope Mokuba gets better soon.”

“Fuck you,” said Seto, and he yanked the door shut.

***

Put off by that _delightful_ interaction, the spirit was not looking forward to the next round waiting for him within the Mutou family residence.

But he was surprised to find the game shop closed, all the lights off and the door locked. The spirit had to use Yugi’s key to get in through the side door that led directly to the house.

He paused in the doorway.

There was no one here, either. When he called out an uncertain _I’m home_ , no one answered. The kitchen was dark. None of the usual scent of Mrs. Mutou’s cooking in the air. He had been so ready for a confrontation, he felt at a loss with this unexpected turn.

It was only a little after six. He wasn’t an _expert_ in the Mutou family routine, but Yugi’s mother should be just starting to cook dinner, and his grandfather would normally be in the shop for another few hours. Had they gone out somewhere? Called away by some other plans? He stood in the empty kitchen, restlessly clenching and unclenching his fists. Knowing that Mokuba had been likely attacked by Malik, this was far too much to be a coincidence.

His eyes narrowed: Yugi’s mother’s purse was slung in its usual place over the back of a chair. And… her shoes by the door? Where would she have gone without _those_?

But there — on the counter! A note? Written on a small square of lined paper from the pad kept by the phone.

He could hardly read it. His connection to his partner had blessed him with a native fluency in speaking Japanese, and when they were together reading had never been an issue, but now he was struggling without that shared knowledge. And as much as he _did_ know, the note was so hastily written it was nearly illegible. He could recognize Yugi’s name at the top, and Sugoroku’s name as a signature, but puzzled over the rest of the message.

He didn’t ponder it for long — the home phone rang, blaring stark and shrill in the quiet kitchen. He stared at it.

It rang a second time.

Was _he_ supposed to answer it?

It rang a third time.

Did people just pick up phones without knowing who was calling?

It rang— he grabbed it, mostly to shut it up, and held it to his ear.

“Oh, thank god, Yugi. You’re home.” It was Sugoroku, sounding breathless.

The spirit was instantly on edge. “What’s wrong?”

“Yugi, I— I don’t want you to worry, but I’m here at the hospital, with your mother.”

His stomach dropped. If something had happened to Yugi’s mother, his partner would be _devastated_. “Tell me what happened.”

“I— the doctors don’t know yet.” His voice was shaking. “They’re still running tests. I found her collapsed in your room and she wouldn’t wake up—” there was a choked sob on the other end of the line. 

_In Yugi’s room?_ The spirit could feel Yugi’s heart pounding, blood rushing between his ears, dizzy with the thought. “Do you want me to come there?” Yugi’s mother and grandfather couldn’t be left unattended.

“…Yes, I think that’s a good idea. Yugi, I— I didn’t grab anything before the ambulance came. Can you pack a few things? And… just take a taxi, I’ll meet you at the emergency entrance.”

The spirit nodded, then remembered Sugoroku couldn’t see him. “I’ll be there soon.” 

“Thank you, Yugi,” he sighed. He sounded so frail on the phone.

“Of course. And don’t worry, everything is going to be okay,” the spirit tried to assure him.

He hung up the phone and immediately spurred into action, hurrying around the house, throwing things into an only recently emptied overnight bag. Having just spent ten days at a hospital himself, he was sure he had the essentials but detoured back around the house looking for things he might have missed. When Yugi’s mother woke up would she need her reading glasses? That brand-new book of crossword puzzles? Extra pens? The silk pillowcase from her bed? Her favourite handcream? The jewelry in the catchall on her dresser? Her makeup bag from the bathroom? He packed it all, just to be safe. 

He bit his lip as he zipped up the overstuffed bag. There was no way he could let anything happen to his partner’s family. But fear was overshadowing his anger and frustration. Was this Malik searching for him? Stalking his school and home, cursing Yugi’s friends and family as he circled closer towards the puzzle?

The spirit was not well suited to being prey. He wanted to call up the shadows and set them upon his enemies, fill them with fear of _him_.

He stopped in the doorway of Yugi’s room. Knowing that _something_ had happened here, he looked around carefully. A light breeze was coming through the — wait, a wide-open window? He crossed the room and slid it shut. A stack of folded laundry had been placed on the bed, but nothing else was out of — oh no.

Ishizu’s scrolls.

He checked the desk drawers, the closet, under the bed — nothing. Even the wooden box they came in was gone.

Damn it all.

***

Sugoroku was waiting, as promised, and paid for the taxi that dropped him off at the hospital entrance. Both their faces were creased with matching worry. Yugi’s grandfather gently patted his shoulder.

“She’s up on the sixth floor,” was all he said, a tremulous waver to his voice. The spirit wordlessly followed him in.

Much like Yugi’s had been, the hospital room was a bland mint green, smelled of antiseptic, and was shared with three other beds. The privacy curtains were pulled closed and it was impossible to tell if they were occupied. And in the far corner, beside the window, Yugi’s mother lay in her own bed. She looked… like she was sleeping. He reached out to lightly touch her face, prodding her with invisible wisps of shadows.

Ishizu’s words rang in his ears. E _mpty of spirit… a loved one in a coma._ Damn her. Had she foreseen this? Known that Malik would come to Yugi’s house, bearing the Millennium Key, looking for the scrolls she herself had handed him? The same way she’d told Kaiba to beware for Mokuba’s safety?

“She’s… not suffering or sick or anything.” Sugoroku was by his elbow, looking wretched as he clutched his daughter-in-law’s hand in his own. “Just in a deep sleep.” 

“I know,” the spirit murmured. Even if Yugi had been here right now, the spirit of the puzzle had a duty to fix this. So he met Sugoroku’s eyes and, speaking for himself, said “I think I know how to help her.”

***

It was the first time he’d ever spoken to Yugi’s grandfather as himself. The first time he’d ever introduced himself to someone other than his partner. And as far as introductions went, it was far better than expected. Sugoroku had always suspected there was more to the Millennium Puzzle, been suspicious of some unusual quirks Yugi had developed, and while perhaps a sentient ghost was a bit more than he bargained for, if anything he seemed vindicated, even honoured to be the first outside of Yugi to properly meet him.

But his expression turned stony when the spirit explained that Yugi, like his mother, was also locked away, asleep.

“What’s happened to them?”

“It’s the other Millennium Items,” the spirit explained. Yugi’s grandfather had unearthed the Puzzle, he surely knew about the others and their rumored powers. “Someone named Malik is coming after the puzzle. He’s using the Key to seal away souls.” He paused, could see the distress on Sugoroku’s face, and sought to assuage him. “If I can get the Key from him, I should be able to bring them back.”

“But why Yugi’s _mother_ … what was he doing in our house today?”

This made the spirit grimace. “I was given something, supposedly quite valuable,” he said as he retrieved the one remaining scroll from Yugi’s backpack. He held it out to Sugoroku. “This is the only one I have left. The others were stolen from Yugi’s room.”

Sugoroku’s eyes went wide as he took the roll of papyrus. “My boy…” he carefully unfurled a few inches of it, examining the first few lines of script. “This is certainly incredible, but why is it important?” The spirit couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment — no material object was worth harming Yugi’s family.

“I don’t remember who I am.” he felt a surprising amount of regret as he admitted it. “But if my memories are restored, I will have the power to confront Malik.” Regret and resentment in spades. “These were supposed to help me, but I haven’t been able to read much of them.” He did not particularly want to get into the bizarre circumstances of only _occasionally_ being able to read hieratic script.

Sugoroku continued to carefully unroll another few inches of paper. “It’s truly exquisite. And you’re not able to read it? I might be able to translate some of it, or get some help from my friends at the university—”

“If Malik is looking for it, I’d rather not involve anyone else. It would just be putting them in danger.”

“Oh, of course. Well, I should have enough reference material at home… it’ll take me a fair while to get through it though.” Sugoroku pointedly ignored that he would be putting _himself_ in danger. He seemed desperate for something to occupy himself with.

The spirit gave him a wry smile. “Your help means a lot to me.”

Sugoroku nodded, still contemplative. “And… forgive me, I have so many questions. But what should I call you? What does Yugi call you?”

 _Mou hitori no boku… Other me…_ How he coveted that voice and those words. “I’m happy to be the Other Yugi. I don’t need any other name until I remember my own.”

Sugoroku moved to sit in the padded chair on the other side of the hospital bed, his back to the window and the swiftly falling night. “And if you don’t mind me asking… what were you doing up last night? In the hallway? You gave me quite a fright.”

He hadn’t trusted Ishizu to tell her, but Sugoroku had witnessed it, the other thing hiding deep in the puzzle, walking in Yugi’s body. He answered honestly. “I was in the puzzle until you woke me up. I don’t know who was walking around the house.” Acknowledging it out loud made him feel sick. 

Sugoroku gave him a hard look. “Who else could it be?”

His deepest fears. A spectre of all the worst parts of himself. Long abandoned vestiges of his sanity. A _trap_. “It doesn’t matter, I won’t let anything hurt Yugi,” he said even though it was already too late to say such things. 

But the old man seemed comforted by the spirit’s conviction, and they both settled into a silent vigil over Yugi’s mother.

***

Here again.

Pursued by Malik on the outside.

This dreaded place waiting on the inside.

The misty room was no different from the past two times, but now he knew better.

In his mind, he sought that invisible tether to Yugi’s body, like a string on a balloon, and wrapped shadows around it, grasping it as tight as he could without letting it pull him out of this place. _Nothing_ was going to cut him off again, sneak into Yugi’s body, unseat him from his cherished host.

But he wasn’t going to run away either. Whatever it was should fear the Spirit of the Puzzle. This was _his_ domain. He pulled more shadows to him, power pooling within him, until he could feel a familiar golden brand burning on his forehead. _Come out_ , he wanted to shout. _Come play_ my _game._

It was here. He could feel the panicked frenzy of the shadows around him.

_run run run—_

He remained steadfast, felt the vibrations intensify, almost couldn’t hear the Other’s footsteps over the wailing of the shadows.

Until once again, _something_ paused in the mist before him. Invisible.

He’d force it to show itself. His face split into a predatory grin. “Let’s play—”

 _Leave_ the something interrupted.

Its voice was like static. It cut through his thoughts, made him dizzy, forced the shadows to skitter out from his grasp.

“Get out of my head!” He snaked his hand out to grab at the other. 

But there was nothing to touch and he stumbled forwards.

 _Stay broken_ it wheezed, like air from a cursed tomb. The words were nails on a chalkboard, dragging through him as it prowled in a circle around him. 

The shrieking in his head was too much.

The spirit clutched as his face, tried to breathe through the lancing pain, hold back a scream against the unbearable pressure behind his eyes—

And then he came to, disoriented, roughly shoved back into Yugi’s body. Sugoroku was kneeling beside him on the hospital floor, face pale, hands out but scared to touch him.

“Wh- what’s wrong with you my boy?” He looked terrified. “The _shadows_ in the room— You started shaking all over— Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” the spirit managed, pushing himself to sit up. He was drenched in a cold sweat, head throbbing, still panting hard. He looked down at the puzzle hanging around Yugi’s neck, felt for the first time he truly did not understand this relic he was tied to. What the hell was hiding in there?

***

The spirit didn’t sleep the rest of the night. He refused to sit, instead he stood watchfully over Mrs. Mutou’s bed, and Sugoroku too when he eventually slumped down in his chair and started snoring softly. 

Her condition hadn’t changed by the time a nurse came to check on her in the morning. So Sugoroku and the spirit agreed to head home — Yugi’s grandfather to pick up some reference material to begin the painstaking process of translating the scroll, and the spirit to get ready for school. 

Sugoroku was surprised when the spirit announced he intended to go to class. “You really don’t need to go to school. I’ll call the office, tell them we’re here.”

“Yugi’s life doesn’t stop just because someone is coming after me.” He was pretty sure he’d be ruining a second day of Yugi’s academic life whether he showed up to school or not, but he was _definitely_ sure he’d lose whatever was left of his mind if he spent another minute doing nothing in this hospital. Meanwhile Sugoroku was planning to come back armed with his books, continue to wait hopefully by Mrs. Mutou’s bedside, valiantly fight to help his family in the way he could.

“Thank you again for your help,” the spirit said genuinely.

“I’ll do my very best, my boy. I’ll try to find some answers for you.”

One could hope.

***

Anzu and Honda were already in class when he arrived. “Good morning, Yugi!” they chimed.

The spirit sank into Yugi’s seat and forced out a far lighter “Good morning” than he felt.

Honda leaned closer to peer at his face. “Dude, you look like you haven’t slept in days. You alright?”

The spirit felt his face twitch. _Days_ was about right. “Mom is in the hospital,” he said around a woolen tongue.

“What?” they both gasped. “What happened?” Anzu asked at the same time as Honda’s “Why are you _here_?”

“I just—” he squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t do anything about it, and I need something to focus on for now. I’ll tell you about it later.”

They both nodded and sat back to give him space, and he was grateful for it. He planned to sit here, listen to the lectures, take good notes for his partner, and hopefully by tonight Sugoroku would have discovered something useful.

It was a testament to the spirit’s growing exhaustion that he only noticed Jounouchi was absent when the teacher started taking attendance. The teacher called out _Jounouchi Katsuya_ and when there was no reply she audibly chided “late as always,” before continuing down the list.

Except Jounouchi didn’t show up for class at all.

The spirit tried to smother his growing unease by throwing himself into Yugi’s classwork. He took notes of the lectures (they rambled along so fast, how was he supposed to keep up writing?). He read aloud when called upon (the teacher impatiently cut him short and moved on to the next student each time he stumbled over unfamiliar kanji). He diligently filled out the English pop quiz (all he wrote was gibberish, scribbling in made up words in his best imitation of the foreign letters). He forced out respectful and plausibly sensible answers when asked questions by the teachers (wrong, every single time).

All in all, it was a thoroughly exhausting and humbling morning. His partner was _so smart_ and couldn’t he just be back already, spare the spirit from this tedious humiliation? When the lunch bell finally rang he sighed and laid his head on the desk. He wanted to vanish into the quiet privacy of the Puzzle, but he had to remain here, in Yugi’s body.

The class filed out, but moments later he heard two chairs pull up, Anzu and Honda, sitting on either side of him. They waited for any acknowledgement, but the spirit didn’t move. He could imagine the two of them sharing a wordless conversation over him.

“Hey…” Anzu began gently. “I think we need to talk about what’s happening.”

He turned his head to give her a weary scowl. “What do you mean?”

“I called Jounouchi’s house during morning break,” Honda said on his other side. “His dad answered. Said he had fallen into some kind of coma.”

The spirit sat up at that, colour draining from Yugi’s already pale face.

Anzu was looking at him with fearful eyes. “What happened to Yugi’s mom? And… has something happened to Yugi?”

He’d been found.

He glanced between Honda and Anzu, heart racing with panic, feeling trapped between them. But neither of them moved, said nothing more. Just waited for his explanation.

“I think it’s Malik with the Millennium Key,” he said carefully, trying to gauge their reactions. “It’s like he’s looking for me, but keeps coming across the wrong people.” He didn’t touch the once-reassuring puzzle on his lap, only smoothed Yugi’s sweating palms along his thighs. “…He got Mokuba yesterday too.”

“That would explain why Seto isn’t here either,” Honda mused before he gave the spirit a sharp look. “And Yugi?”

“…missing since the fire,” he admitted quietly.

This triggered a reaction.

“Why didn’t you _tell us_?” Anzu shouted. Her hands were balled in fists, threatening. The spirit wondered if she’d punch Yugi’s sweet face, if he made her angry enough. If she was as mad at him as he was at himself. “You’re just letting Malik do this to people? Aren’t you supposed to stop him? Don’t you want to get Yugi _back_?”

The accusation was everything the spirit hated and feared in one. “All I want is him back!” he shouted back, slamming his hands on the desk. He felt a flash of _heat_ on his forehead. “I’m falling apart without him! And I don’t know how to _fix myself_ so I can—”

He ground his teeth shut, shaking with the admission. He _needed_ Yugi back. 

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—” Anzu’s anger fled in the face of his, and she tried to placate him.

Honda wasn’t intimidated quite so easily. “So what are you doing to get him back? Did those scrolls help your memory at all?” His voice was hard, but it almost felt like he was offering an olive branch, a chance for the spirit to redeem himself in their eyes. Except that it was just another point of failure.

The spirit’s temper swiftly cooled, and he was left feeling bereft, exposed. “They were stolen.” He couldn’t stand their shocked gasps. Hated the build-up to their impending rejection. May as well just lay bare _all_ his shortcomings at once.

“People are being attacked because of me, and Sugoroku is working on a translation of the last one I have, even though it’s putting him in danger. I don’t even know if it’s worth it, if it’ll help me remember anything. I’m not sure I’m _supposed_ to remember who I am. But I don’t know how I’ll be able to stop Malik if I can’t remember myself.” The words came tumbling out, dangerously close to rambling.

Both of Yugi’s friends were watching him closely. He stopped himself, held still as he waited for them to weigh his heavy heart against the feather of Ma’at.

But no harsh judgement arrived.

“None of that is your fault, you know,” Anzu said softly.

Honda nodded in agreement. “It sounds like there’s a lot on your mind, but maybe you’ve forgotten that normal people need sleep. Try to get a good night’s rest and you’ll find a better way to handle all this.”

Where was the condemnation he’d been waiting for? Instead they say it’s not his fault, want to tuck him into bed like a child? Impossible. “I can’t sleep. There’s something else in the puzzle—”

“Wait, what?” both of them were united in their shocked confusion.

“There’s something else in there?”

“Is it Yugi?”

The spirit shook his head. “It’s definitely _not_ him. I thought it might be some kind of trap from Malik but it’s something else. Something old. Like me.”

Honda had a look of horrified revulsion. “No offense, but one creepy old spirit possessing my friend is already too much for me.”

The spirit let out a tired sigh. “Tell me about it.”

Anzu wasn’t so put off by the idea. “It’s old… like you? Have you asked _it_ about your memories?”

The spirit blinked at her, stunned, ready to object. Had he heard her right? He could still feel the words _stay broken_ carving into his mind. But as he mulled it over, he couldn’t fault Anzu’s logic. As a general rule he only liked a good idea when it came from Yugi or himself. But in this case it was a surprisingly great, if not wholly terrifying, idea and he had to concede.

“I haven’t had the chance,” was as close as his pride would allow. 

“How do you see this other spirit? It is here, like, right now?”

Thank the gods no. He didn’t correct them in that he doubted it was a _spirit_ quite like himself. Speaking of it too much felt like a malediction. “Only when I sleep at night.” A chill ran down his spine just thinking about it.

“Alright, so you do that tonight and let us know how it goes in the morning.” She made it sound as if it was no big deal. Like if he did this one thing, everything would be okay. He wanted to shout that she didn’t understand, that it was _not_ that easy.

“Sure, Anzu, Yugi’s _other_ ancient spirit is just going to be super cool and help us out,” Honda was skeptical, and the spirit took some satisfaction in it.

“Why not?” she said defensively. “ _He’s_ not bad,” she pointed at the Other Yugi. “And you know what, if _I_ was an ancient spirit, I’d definitely want to help too!”

“Yeah, except since when has a _benevolent_ spirit stuck around haunting _dark magical artifacts_ for thousands of years!”

The spirit tuned out their bickering and leaned back in his seat, released a disbelieving sigh. He still had half the day to get through, still felt the void of Yugi’s absence in his heart, and the encroaching Shadow Realm pressing into him instead. But he allowed a small smile to tug at his lips. Yugi’s friends had found him out, and they still wanted to help. It was an incredible feeling. A thought suddenly occurred to him.

“Hey Anzu,” he interrupted them. “How did you know I wasn’t Yugi?”

“Oh,” she blushed. “Yugi is right-handed.”

Honda barked a laugh. “I knew it because you turned into a total fucking idiot. Seriously, you’re worse than Jou. Can you even _read_?”

The spirit chuckled at himself, heard them giggle nervously with him, and the laughter grew until there were relieved tears rolling down Yugi’s face. He couldn’t hide in the puzzle so tried to hide his emotions behind his hands. “I have _no idea_ how I’m going to get through Yugi’s schoolwork until he gets back,” he confessed breathlessly.

“It’s okay dude, we’ve got your back.”

“We’ll help you out. Just… promise you’ll get Yugi and everyone else back to us.”

“I promise I will,” the spirit said, and he would have staked his very soul on it, because for the first time he felt like it might truly be possible.

***

They really did have his back. All afternoon Honda was waving his hand, volunteering an answer for _every single question_ a teacher asked before the spirit could inadvertently be called upon. He only let up after he was handed a detention slip for being ‘excessively participatory’. Anzu picked up the slack - she loudly demanded _all_ the homework and worksheets be done as groupwork in the name of boosting ‘exam prep morale’ (to the long-suffering groans of their classmates).

It was so heartening. The spirit wanted his partner there to share the feeling, feel that warm delight bounce along their connection, tell him about _how lucky_ he was to have friends like that.

But the feeling was a double-edged knife, left him keenly aware of the absences around him. Friends and family now locked in their soul rooms, waiting for him to take back the Key and set them free. So when the end of day bell rang, he made a beeline for the gates of the school, Anzu and Honda trailing after him.

“I still can’t believe you just walked out of detention yesterday. Literally _everyone_ is talking about it.” Honda sounded awed, and then looked down at the pink slip of paper in his hand. “I’m pretty sure my mom is gonna kill me,” he lamented.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck going,” the spirit apologized. Sugoroku had called the school to tell them about Yugi’s mother, and he’d been excused from any further attempts at _discipline_. “It’s my fault and you were just trying to help.” He resented the school and teachers for being unjust. Wondered if perhaps a shadow game could fix it. Yugi hated them, but the spirit always found such things satisfying—

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ve got to head back upstairs though. You heading home?”

“I’m going back to the museum,” he told them. “I need to see if Ishizu knows another way for me to find my memories.”

Anzu scrunched her nose. “You sure she can help? She gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Yeah, it’s too bad she’s so weird. She’s such a babe,” Honda sighed.

“Ew, Honda. You don’t have to make up for Jounouchi not being here.” Anzu gave him a repulsed look before turning back to the Other Yugi. “I was going to meet up with Shizuka and go by the hospital to visit Jounouchi. You okay to handle this on your own?”

The spirit nodded. “I’ll be fine. Make sure to bring Jounouchi lots of flowers,” he said with a wink.

Anzu was instantly mortified. “I swear, I didn’t know that was you then!”

“I know,” he said warmly. “Yugi really would have appreciated them though. Jounouchi will probably just be embarrassed.”

She brightened at the idea. It was easy to feel lighthearted about their crisis. Despite Jounouchi’s absence, Yugi’s friends seemed cheered that the Other Yugi was going to handle it. Certainly everything would be okay soon, and some light pranking in the meantime would be laughed at once everyone was better. “Honda, I’m going to swing by a flower shop on the way. Who do you think I should sign the card from?”

“Oooh, make it Kaiba. He’ll be _so mad_.”

They continued their conspiring for another moment before Anzu jotted down (in her neatest handwriting) bus directions for the spirit, and, saying goodbye, they all headed their separate ways.

It’d been more interaction with Yugi’s friends than he’d ever had before, and he felt somewhat buoyed by their optimism as he started the trip to the museum. He double checked the route number and the direction before boarding, tapped Yugi’s bus pass against the card reader, and settled into an empty seat by a back window.

He passed the time gazing at Yugi’s reflection. For a few minutes it was soothing to pretend his partner was right here, forehead pressed to the glass, nose to nose. The image was faint in the daylight and whenever his breath fogged the glass too much he’d wipe it away, return Yugi to his sight. He couldn’t help a faint hope that maybe, once again, his partner would be able to press though that invisible barrier, let his soul bleed through the gaps to brush reassuringly against his.

But there was no such luck today. Yugi may have offered to share his body with the spirit, but without the rest of Yugi, he felt like an intruder rather than a guest. None of his partner’s welcoming laughter, sharp wit, thoughtful insight. Cold silence where there should be an endless stream of warmth between their linked hearts.

He felt like he was slowly dying without it, cut off from some vital lifeline, drowning in an all-consuming darkness—

He jolted at the sight of Yugi’s crying reflection. They were his own tears, but still set his heart pounding. Instead of brusquely scrubbing them away, he let himself study that precious face, watched his mirror image as he brushed them softly away with his thumbs, gentle as he would for the real Yugi. He shivered, wished with all his might that he would soon be face to face with him for real. Tears kept coming. He was just _so empty_. His soul was unravelling without him.

He finally had to look away from the reflection, angrily blot his face dry with the sleeve of Yugi’s jacket.

“Everything alright, son?” A man standing in the aisle of the bus asked him. “Do you need help?”

“This is my stop,” the spirit said, pushing past him to the door, withholding the _no_ and the _yes_ he could have easily answered with.

***

The museum was closed. Yellow caution tape blocked the entrance. Huge plastic tarps were hung over the doors in a poor attempt at a seal. A handful of security guards were redirecting crowds of people.

“Excuse me,” the spirit held out a hand to stop one of them. “What’s going on here?”

“Sorry kid, no one can visit the museum. Some kind of accident.”

“My friend works here,” he said with feigned innocence. “Can I at least try to find her?”

“No can do. Building’s not safe, whole place was evacuated. Tons of people were passing out. They think something got in the air from a research lab. If your friend was in there, she might be at the hospital.”

The spirit felt certain _Malik_ had been in there. Ishizu had mentioned her fear that he would come for her. And then his thoughts went to the _hospital._ If Malik was going to places he had been, then everyone there would be in danger.

“How do I get to the hospital from here?” he demanded, suddenly afraid for all the rest of Yugi’s friends. Yugi’s grandfather. He didn’t know how he was going to stop Malik, but he couldn’t let this circular chase continue. He would not be pushed around, hounded like a king on a chessboard.

***

Things at the hospital were buzzing with a restless, panicked energy. Too many unconscious people, not enough beds, ambulances backed up while they tried to figure out where to send them. Police were trying to redirect the families that were looking for loved ones who’d been at the museum.

The spirit ducked past the crowds and skipped the elevator in favour of the stairs to head to the sixth floor. _Please let them still be awake_ —

He burst out of the stairwell, and to his right spotted Yugi’s grandpa down the hall, examining a vending machine. He’d never been so happy to spot that messy grey hair.

Sugoroku caught sight of his grandson’s reflection in the machine’s surface and turned with a smile. “Oh? Yugi! You’re here! I just saw your friends—” He caught himself, tried to backpedal. “I mean, Yugi’s friends, not _yours_ —”

The spirit couldn’t hold back a relieved chuckle. “No, it’s fine, they know I’m, well… me.”

“Oh? Well I can’t say I’m not glad for your change of heart. Every obstacle is easier with friends.” He turned somber. “Though it seems whatever got your mother has been spreading around the city.”

The spirit hummed an acknowledgement and followed Sugoroku back to the room with Yugi’s mother. “I’m glad you’re safe. I was worried Malik was going to come here next,” he admitted, and then took in the changes around the room. Instead of four, there were now seven beds packed into the already tight space, each occupied by an unconscious body.

“The doctors are saying it could be some type of encephalitis.”

The spirit walked between the beds, resting a hand on each patient, briefly inspecting them. “It’s definitely Malik’s work,” he disagreed. He then stood by the window, peered through the blinds as though he might happen to spot some dark figure lurking outside. “Did you have any luck with the scroll today?”

Sugoroku perked up at the mention of it. “It’s slow progress, but it’s fascinating!” he retrieved it out of the duffle bag tucked under Mrs. Mutou’s bed, packed alongside heaps of books and notes. “It looks to be a medical text! Well, medicine in an early dynastic context. It’s hard to distinguish between their references to science and magic, but it’s follows a similar instructional format to Edwin Smith’s—”

He excitedly went on in the way that experts do, offering the spirit all the detailed information about the things he didn’t want to know, and leaving tantalizing gaps around the information he _did_ want to know. “It has some similar themes, and is likely a replica of an even earlier text that could pre-date the papyrus of Ani by a few hundred years—”

The spirit finally waved his hand dismissively, stopping Sugoroku’s tangent. “Yes, it’s old, but what does it talk about?”

“Oh, well, it’s hard to say for sure at this stage, but thematically it seems almost like a surgical analysis of the soul. Macabre stuff but fairly par for the course—”

The spirit grabbed at the scroll and Sugoroku let it go easily. He unfurled a section, studying it closely, willing it to reveal its secrets. Medical text… about souls? It must be meant to guide him in re-completing himself. But the script offered him nothing and he scowled as he pushed it back to Yugi’s grandfather. “I just need to know how it can help me regain my memories,” he scolded, harsher than he meant to be.

“I’m doing my best, my boy.” Sugoroku held the papyrus gently, took a step back. There was apprehension in his eyes and he tried to look anywhere but the stern being residing in his grandson.

“Forgive me.” The spirit hadn’t meant to be rude to Yugi’s grandfather. “I appreciate your help. I don’t know how I’d do this without you.”

“Of course, and I-I swear I’ll keep working on it. Just stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Making the shadows… do that.” Sugoroku pointed a quaking finger at the ceiling. The white paint had turned into a thick black haze, tendrils of smoke slinking down the walls, twisting and reaching towards them.

“Get out of here!” the spirit ordered.

But someone was already blocking the door.

“Hello, Pharaoh,” Malik purred.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To spare you a trip to google: Khat – Body; Ka – life force; Ba – Soul/Spirit; Ib – Heart; Ren – Name; Shuyet – Shadow; Akh – the immortal soul.

There was no _real_ way to control the shadows, in his experience. They were mercurial, selectively acknowledging _power_. The Millennium Items seemed to be the only things capable of simultaneously granting access to the shadow realm, while shielding it from those who would abuse those dark forces.

But the spirit had power and was bound to that living night by some forgotten sacrifice. Every moment of his existence shadows followed him like an endless cascade of smoke and water. Always following his direction in an instinctive push and pull.

Or they should have been.

Right now they were shackles. 

He’d never felt so betrayed.

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” Malik said conversationally. He was tall and wiry and _feral_ , spiked blond hair and black tattoos and heavy gold jewellery stark against his bronze skin. Darkness draped over and around him like a cloak, seeped out from below his feet like an oil spill. There was a foulness to the shadows the spirit had never seen before _._

Malik was wielding the Rod in his right hand and the Key dangled from a cord around his neck. He approached the spirit with open arms, as though greeting an old friend. He paused when Sugoroku caught his eye, trembling behind the spirit. With an air of indifference Malik made a careless gesture, flung him against a wall. The spirit was helpless to intervene.

With the old man knocked out, Malik tilted his head and returned his attention to the spirit, strode closer. “You have something I want.”

The spirit struggled against the darkness, and the shadows wound tighter around him. How had Malik gotten so strong? Even holding two items, they shouldn’t have granted him this much power. “I’ll _never_ let you take the Puzzle,” he hissed.

“I don’t need that trinket quite yet,” Malik murmured. He was so close that the spirit was breathing in the shadows that swarmed around him. “My sister gave you something.” He raised a finger to trace it down Yugi’s face.

The spirit bared his teeth viciously but couldn’t twist away. “You already took the scrolls,” he bit out.

“I burned those useless scraps to ash. Give me the Millennium Scale.”

The spirit kept up his best poker face, anger making an easy cover for his confusion. “You won’t get your hands on any other Items.”

“Oh? Go ahead, protect them as well as you can. They won’t even matter for much longer. Once I break the seal,” he said, tapping the Rod against Yugi’s chest, “there will be nothing left between me and dominion over the Shadow Realm.”

The spirit didn’t respond, let the silence drag on until Malik felt compelled to continue. He stepped away, moved instead to a sleeping patient, reached out to caress their hair, and smirked at the spirit’s open disgust. “In good time all these little lambs will sacrifice themselves to the darkness, feed themselves to the gods in my name and grant me the power I seek.”

“You have no idea what you’re doing,” the spirit finally said, anger coursing through him. The Ishtar’s may have a wealth of secret knowledge, shadow magic and ancient rituals at their disposal, but he couldn’t believe it would include something like _that_.

“Oh, I know exactly what I’m doing. You should know better than anyone that all gods are carnivorous,” he sneered. “And even _kings_ must obey the command of their hungry gods.”

“You fancy yourself a god?” he spat.

“You won’t live long enough to see what I become.” Malik held out the Rod, and Yugi’s mother drew herself up from the bed, followed by the others, eyes open and vacant. “And you won’t be able to protect any of _them_.”

Shadows had blotted out the windows, crept over every surface in the room, created a dark cage reminiscent of the depths of the puzzle. Malik stalked around the spirit to stand at his back, leaned close, rested the cold metal of the Rod against the skin of Yugi’s neck. He whispered in his ear, “I’d have this body too, if only he hadn’t finished that puzzle so damn quick. Tell me, how has your _ba_ been doing without your host’s soul? Tired yet of this pathetic _khat_?”

The spirit would _tear out_ Malik’s throat with Yugi’s perfect little human teeth. His could feel the golden eye of Anubis blazing on his forehead, molten heat searing through his mind and feeding a growing hysteria. But still the shadows still ignored him. “You’ve trespassed on his heart and I will set the gods to feast on your flesh,” he cursed furiously.

Malik threw back his head and laughed. “Perhaps one day! But if you won’t give me the Scale, I’ll settle for the Puzzle and send your worthless _ba_ ahead as an appetizer.”

He brushed a hand down the side of Yugi’s neck, replaced the rod with cold steel, a dagger pressing against the thin skin of Yugi’s throat, and started to mutter a low incantation in an ancient tongue. The spirit howled with rage, struggled against the crushing press of darkness that pulsed out of the Shadow Realm. Shadows dug into every piece of his soul, like he was only thing stopping them from rampaging through the entire hospital, and he felt the knife slice into Yugi—

A flash, blinding and electrifying, threw the room into a stark inverse of black and white. The spirit felt like he’d been set on fire, the darkness of his soul blazing, and they both felt the _shift_ of shadows snapping back to the spirit’s command.

Liberated, the spirit cast off his shackles, spun out from the knife’s edge, and _heaved_ a tsunami of power at Malik to get him away Yugi’s body. Shocked and off guard, Malik was caught by the full force of it. The window burst as Malik slammed into it, and there was nothing to stop his descent to the ground below except a small flurry of shadows trailing him like the tail of a comet.

The spirit stood, panting, ready to lay waste to anything that threatened Yugi. He waited, disoriented and delirious.

Nothing else moved.

Slowly, the darkness ebbed away.

The fluorescent lights flickered back on. Yugi’s mother and six others had been released back into their beds, still empty and unaware. Sugoroku’s own slumped figure was beginning to stir. 

And finally the spirit felt like he was coming back to himself, a numbness washing over him as fell to his knees and clamped a hand over the deep wound. Yugi’s neck was slick with blood. He franticly searched the room for any vestige of the light that had left burning sunspots in his eyes.

“Aibou, where are you?” He called desperately. His partner had once again managed to escape his soul room to come to his side. Had arrived like a struck match to his gunpowder. _Saved him_.

He gasped as he felt the soft touch of a hand against his third eye, blissfully cool against his feverish skin. Another settled over the bloodied hand holding Yugi’s neck. “Stay with me,” he sobbed. He wanted to fall into him. Inhale him. Anything to be close. To keep him here.

But there was no way to hold on, and seconds later the spirit slipped unconscious into the dark house of the puzzle.

***

The spirit rested, unmolested by either shadows or the unwelcome _thing_ hiding in the puzzle.

Still, when he finally woke he felt perhaps even more lethargic than before. And Yugi was still gone. He blinked wearily at the walls. He recognized the sterile scent and the green paint. The hospital. He sat up slowly, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and prodded the thick wad of gauze taped to his neck. A painful reminder of what had happened.

On the bedside table were a handful of cards. He flipped through them. One each from Grandpa, Anzu and Honda— all thoughtfully addressed to ‘Both Yugis’— a fourth from Shizuka, and the last was… Kaiba? A prank?

But no, it was thick, elegant cardstock — corporate stationery — and not a single _get well soon_ in sight. _I have something for you_ was written below the embossed Kaiba Corp logo. Not even signed. He flipped it over. Blank. Ugh, Kaiba. Seriously.

“Holy _shit_!” someone shouted, followed by a loud clatter.

He found himself in a staring contest with a terrified nurse.

“…Yes?” the spirit prompted as he tore Kaiba’s note half and discarded the pieces on the table.

“Oh my god.” The young man looked like he was going to have a heart attack. “You’re awake. _Someone’s awake!_ ” he bellowed into the hall.

The spirit looked at the rest of the room. Half a dozen other beds surrounded him, each one occupied by a sleeping patient.

Oh.

He was _not_ sticking around for this. He found Yugi’s shoes and backpack tucked under the bed. “I’m just going to the bathroom,” the spirit tried to pacify the hyperventilating nurse, slipping past him into the hallway. “I’ll be right back,” he lied.

He was on the eighth floor, so he ducked into the stairwell and went down two floors to check on Yugi’s mother. All the halls were lined with unmoving people in stretchers. At least Malik hadn’t enacted his horrific mass sacrifice yet. The spirit knew better than to think he’d managed to kill him with something as benign as a fall from a sixth story window.

He found Mrs. Mutou’s room, and she was still in her spot in the corner. The window had already been replaced with plywood. Without the natural light, she looked pallid. And Sugoroku was there too, once again seated beside her, books spread out along the edge of her bed. He was pouring over the scroll at his makeshift desk.

“Hello,” the spirit said from across the room, so as not to scare him. It didn’t help — Yugi’s grandfather leapt up, scattering papers everywhere, clutched a hand to his heart.

“How are you so _quiet?_ ” he groaned. “At least when it’s Yugi, everyone can hear him coming!”

The spirit grinned in agreement, and crossed the room _extra_ silently. But he was serious once again when he looked Sugoroku over. “I’m sorry about what happened. Did Malik hurt you?”

“I’ve had worse!” He rolled his shoulders like a boxer ready for another round, and returned the spirit’s appraising gaze. “Honestly I’m shocked _you’re_ standing. They’re saying over five hundred people were admitted this week, all the same as your mother. I thought that maniac had gotten you as well. And to top it off, you lost a lot of blood.”

The spirit wrapped Yugi’s arms around himself, like a hug. The fear was unlike anything he’d ever known. A deep-seated horror took root as he remembered how entirely powerless he’d been in the face of a direct threat to his partner. So thoroughly betrayed by the shadows that ought to obey him. “How long have I been out?”

“Not even two days.” Sugoroku gave him a searching look. “The staff thought someone might have gone through the window, but there was no sign of anyone outside.”

The spirit could hear the question buried in there. “He’ll be back,” was all he said.

The spirit’s reluctance to speak about it must have been obvious. Sugoroku kindly changed the topic. “Well, you’ll be happy to hear about the scroll! I think I’ve made some terrific progress!”

He _had_ made progress. The spirit was impressed as Sugoroku walked him through the “five distinct characteristics” of a soul of which the spirit was already familiar. He was fairly certain Ishizu had, long ago at their first meeting, told him there were nine pieces, but he supposed he was _dead_ so five were probably all that mattered at this point.

Where Sugoroku’s understanding was purely theoretical, the spirit tried to offer his personal insight: Firstly, that he was only here because Yugi had agreed to share his _khat_ with him, the mortal body that he possessed. He had also generously offered his bright and brilliant _ka_ to help fuel the spirit’s _ba_ to wander the world of the living. And now he needed his memories to restore his _ib_ along with his _ren_ , his heart and his long-forgotten name.

According to this text, with the right tools and words, he could follow some spell to mix all the pieces together and he ought to become an _Akh._ Some kind of fully functional spirit. Entity. Human? He may be walking and talking in Yugi’s body, but the concept of being his own person seemed… well, entirely foreign.

As Sugoroku continued his animated lecture, his mind wandered. He hadn’t really given it all much thought before, having been content as his partner’s other half, simply existing as this incomplete remnant of himself. A solitary _ba_ that lived in the Puzzle. Just how much of him would be restored by this process? Would he still be able to be with this partner as they had been? It seemed naïve to think things would go back to normal. Or what passed as normal for them. But perhaps with his own body…

He was getting ahead of himself. He had no idea what the outcome might be. Focus.

There was yet another piece to all this that Sugoroku had mentioned. There was the fifth component of his soul that he would need to locate, the _shuyet_.

It seemed like such a vague notion — this idea that the shadow he cast would serve as a protector of his immortal soul. He hadn’t cast a shadow in a _very_ long time and it might have been easy to assume that for him, it referred to those near-sentient creatures from the Shadow Realm. But now he’d been a victim of their volatile nature, had been abandoned in a moment of need and left decidedly _un_ protected, struggling for his life against Malik.

The memory was enough to rekindle his temper. These days he knew himself well enough to know that no piece of him would be so fickle. Especially with Yugi’s life on the line. The shadows were not truly a part of his soul, merely a taxidermic by-product of whatever ritual he had been subjected to. Unlike those shadows, his _shuyet_ would be deliberate and infallible. Impossible to bend to the whims of others.

He looked down at the scroll. Scowled as he thought about it. A different sort of shadow, something separate from the darkness in the Puzzle. That kept his secrets, a hidden mirror of his _ba_. Something untouchable…

“Yugi? Are you alright?”

The spirit thought he was going to pass out from the intensity of his revelation.

He turned away from Sugoroku’s concerned hovering. With shaking hands he lifted the puzzle up to examine it, as though he could peer into its impossible depths.

He knew _exactly_ what the _other thing_ in the puzzle was. That terrifying and impossible presence in the mist.

Anzu had been right — he had to talk to _it_. He could confront it, and find a way to bind it back to himself as he continued to search for the rest of himself. At least once piece of his soul wasn’t scattered as far away as he’d feared.

***

As excited as Sugoroku was for his profound self-discovery, the spirit quickly proved to be a poor research assistant. The spirit doubted he’d be able to reach that misty room where his _shuyet_ was hiding until he slept tonight, and it left him restless and distracted, both dreading and primed for an encounter with that sliver of himself stalking the puzzle.

Sugoroku politely encouraged the Other Yugi take a walk after a few minutes of watching the spirit pace the cramped hospital room.

He suspected Yugi’s grandfather meant something nearby, like a visit to the sleeping Jounouchi on another floor. But he slung Yugi’s backpack over his shoulder, told Sugoroku he’d see him back at home in the evening, and headed outside. This was a perfect time to find out what Seto’s bizarre note was all about. He had something for him? He couldn’t imagine what it could be.

The spirit asked a girl on her smoke break how to get to Kaiba Corp headquarters, and she helpfully rattled off directions. He still felt mildly triumphant about swiping Yugi’s bus pass as he boarded, and it was only a short ride later where he found himself standing before that imposing skyscraper. Gathering clouds and streaks of blue sky were reflected on its glass surface. There was a steady bustle of employees in and out the main entrance.

He recognized the place, had been here a few times with Yugi. But this was the first time he had approached the cool-faced blonde working at the reception desk.

“I’m here to see Seto Kaiba,” he said.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kaiba is not available. You will need to call his secretary for an appoin…” she faltered when she looked away from her computer to see _Yugi Mutou_ standing there. She made a surprised _oh_ and fumbled for the phone while holding up a finger, asking him to _wait just a moment please—_

The spirit lounged against the desk as she ended up making several calls, desperately trying to pass on the message to the CEO that a VIP was waiting for him in the lobby. But it was starting to look like Kaiba was actually unavailable, and that yes, the spirit’s arrival was a massive inconvenience, mostly because no one wanted be on the hook for sending away _Yugi Mutou, Duel Monsters Champion_.

The receptionist looked stricken, at a loss of what to do with the bored looking boy. After a moment she tried to start up a conversation. “…You’re friends with Mokuba, aren’t you?” 

The spirit nodded. Yugi certainly felt that way about the kid.

“Have you… heard what happened?” she kept her voice low, worried others would overhear.

He wondered if she was going where he thought. “Seto told me that he collapsed outside of school,” he said slowly, intentionally name-dropping.

She seemed awestruck that Yugi was on personal speaking terms with her imposing boss, and continued quickly. “They’ve kept it really quiet, PR, you know, but do you… want to go up and see him?”

“Mokuba is here?” He supposed it made sense. He couldn’t imagine that Seto’s brother would be in a regular hospital.

“Perhaps you could go visit him while we wait for Mr. Kaiba.”

“I’d like that,” he agreed.

Her face split into a relieved smile. “It breaks my heart he’s had no visitors, but it should be okay if it’s _you_.” She busied herself with preparing a visitor’s pass. Seconds later she handed him a white plastic card and gestured across the lobby towards the rightmost elevator. “Have you been to the C-suite residences? 39th floor, first door on the left. We’ll send someone up to get you when Mr. Kaiba is ready.”

He thanked her, examined the card curiously, and went to the elevator. It took a few moments to figure out how to work it — there were no buttons for any number above thirty, but there was a discrete grey box. When he experimentally tapped the card against it, the number 39 lit up on a screen and the elevator shot upwards.

***

The elevator doors opened onto a large foyer. Four heavily embellished doors faced a fountain that filled the middle of the space. Water flowed from the mouths of three white marble dragons. The spirit snorted at the display. He tapped the white card once more to unlock the left-hand door, and let himself into the suite. 

It hardly felt like a place where people lived.

Where Yugi’s home was filled with comfortable couches for movie nights, cluttered bookshelves and worn carpets, this place was all immaculate marble floors, angular furniture, and grey-toned art sparingly on display.

He poked his head through the nearest door. He assumed it was a kitchen, full of gleaming stainless steel but the only recognizable feature was a sink. Next was a bathroom with a huge vaulted ceiling. Then an empty bedroom. An office. Another empty bedroom. A gaming room packed with technology. A swimming pool. He hadn’t intended to snoop through the whole place, but this was ridiculous.

He finally found a door that opened into a room with a bed occupied by a sleeping Mokuba.

The boy was small to start with, and further dwarfed by the sea of pillows and blankets. Some kind of monitoring device was clipped to his index finger. Mokuba was usually such a firecracker, it was unsettling to see him prone and silent. The spirit had the fleeting thought that it might be some kind of perverse blessing his partner wasn’t here to see his friends and loved ones like this.

He stood at the side of the bed, unsure of what he was supposed to do. Yugi’s friends had talked to him nonstop in the hospital, whether or not they thought he was sleeping. He supposed people found that sort of thing reassuring, and maybe he would have felt the same if it’d been his partner speaking to him. But here the spirit was a stranger, visiting under false pretenses. And besides, anything he might say would be pointlessly insincere, wouldn’t change anything about the circumstances until he fixed things himself. He had no comforting words for anyone.

It was getting dark outside. The earlier clouds had collided together and now threatened a storm. He suddenly felt foolish for coming here. What if it turned out to be some ruse. A set up for another pointless argument. The spirit paced the room twice, thinking on it. He should leave. Let Seto come to him if it was so important.

As soon as he had made the decision, he couldn’t get out of there soon enough. He wound his way through the expansive apartment, exited through the front door without a sound… and froze as soon as he stepped into the hallway.

Seto was leaving the opposite suite at the same time. He stiffened when his eyes caught Yugi.

The had a silent face-off for a moment until Seto spoke first:

“What the hell are you doing in there?”

So it was going to be like that then.

“Visiting Mokuba. Thanks for the card, by the way. Very thoughtful.”

Seto looked offended that Yugi was even standing. “You were unconscious. Like all the others. How did you wake up?”

“Sorry to disappoint. Just regular old blood loss.” He said it lightly, but chilled at the thought of Yugi’s blood, spilling out past his fingers onto the floor. He touched the gauze on Yugi’s neck to reassure himself it was closed, healing.

“I suppose it would be too much to expect you to actually know how to fix any of this.”

That cut a little. “What did you have for me,” the spirit said flatly. He didn’t want to put up with this any longer than necessary.

Seto was not going to cooperate, and ignored his question. “When did you last see Ishizu?”

That caught the spirit off guard. “Last weekend, at the museum. Same as you.”

Seto’s eyes flicked to the door he had just left. “You’re wrong. I went to see her again.”

The spirit’s mind was whirling. Had Seto been at the museum when Malik attacked? “…And?”

“She… we didn’t get much time to talk.” Seto seemed bitter about it. He turned to re-enter the suite, the one without Mokuba, and held it open for the spirit.

The spirit followed warily and looked around the apartment. It was very similar to the suite where Mokuba was. “It’s a little weird you don’t let your little brother live with you,” he observed.

“This is for guests. Keep up.” Seto was taking long strides down the hallway, leading the way to a room that opened up to another bed with…

“Ishizu?” She was asleep. Long black hair splayed out on the crisp white sheets. All her jewellery was placed on a bedside table, except the Millennium Tauk, still resting at her neck. She looked so much younger than usual, none of her eerie aura adding a timelessness to her presence. “Why is she here?”

“I had the displeasure of meeting her brother.”

Displeasure would be one word for it. The spirit waited for more.

Seto seemed to be evaluating the Yugi in front of him, going through an internal debate before he continued speaking. “We were talking in the museum when her brother _arrived_. They argued and… I saw him wave this key around, and she collapsed. I got us away.” Seto looked uncomfortable admitting he had the shred of decency to help someone else. “She’s the only one who seemed to know how to help Mokuba,” was his quiet defense.

The spirit was perplexed though. He’d barely gotten away from Malik with his life. How had _Seto_ … “Malik got to a lot of people at the museum. How are _you_ okay?”

“Unlike some people, I don’t believe in this magic nonsense. He can wave his toys around all he wants.”

The spirit was incredulous. Trust Seto to watch a megalomaniac curse people to sleep and chalk it up to some kind of scam for the weak-minded. “You didn’t feel anything at _all_?” For an instant he imagined Jounouchi laughing at the idea of Seto already being a soulless bastard.

“No,” he said, though his face said otherwise. When the spirit crossed his arms skeptically, he ceded with “Perhaps a _small_ migraine.”

That _still_ didn’t make sense. Seto didn’t give him a chance to push the topic further. “Before her brother interrupted us, she asked if I could pass something on to you, said it would be essential for ‘restoring order’.”

He knew immediately what Seto was talking about. Malik had been looking for the Millennium Scale. “ _You_ have the it,” the spirit breathed.

Seto nodded at the spirit’s vague assumption, knelt by the bedside table to open a little panel that uncovered a safe. It read his thumbprint, beeped, and opened to reveal a glittering golden scale. “I trust you know how this is supposed to help Mokuba.”

The spirit didn’t have the faintest idea, but accepted the delicate instrument. He held it gingerly. It looked harmless enough but it whispered to him on some distant frequency. If he really listened, the Tauk that Ishizu wore was also close enough to hear, close to the edge of his awareness. Three Items in one room.

It was not a comforting thought.

“Did Ishizu tell you what it’s for?”

“She said she gave you the instructions.”

Well shit. “I’m working on it,” the spirit said, fully meaning Sugoroku was working on it. Hopefully the one remaining scroll would have enough information. “Just brushing up on my ancient Egyptian.”

Seto scoffed and said something suspiciously like _incompetent_ , but the spirit was staring, transfixed, at Ishizu.

She had opened her eyes.

***

The first splatters of rain had started to drum against the windows. It was the only noise in the room as Ishizu shifted out of the bed and stumbled to her feet, limp like a marionette on strings. Her face was expressionless but she cocked her head as though she was listening.

Seto and the spirit backed away.

“What is wrong with her,” Seto growled. “What have you done, Yugi?”

The spirit gave him a disbelieving glare. “This is not _me_!”

How close did Malik have to be in order to control a person? He crammed the golden Scale into Yugi’s backpack. He had to get out of here. He wasn’t ready for this fight.

“We’ve got to run,” the spirit ordered.

Seto sneered at him. “What on earth from—” He couldn’t finish the thought. Ishizu leapt at Seto’s back, unnaturally fast, all legs and arms and disheveled hair. “Fuck– get her off me—”

Her thin arms tightened around his neck with a strength that was not her own, and a low voice that wasn’t hers drawled out of her mouth. “Give me the Scale, Pharaoh.”

“Let him go,” the spirit commanded, but he hesitated to draw on the shadows, uncertain if his power would work against Malik and this possessed Ishizu. If this would be some repeat of what had happened in the hospital. He couldn’t risk Yugi’s body getting hurt again.

Seto wasn’t hesitating. He staggered backwards and slammed her into the wall. Ishizu’s body let out a voiceless gasp, like air out of a punctured bag, and her grip loosened enough for Seto to fling her off his back and over his head.

She landed in a heap, but was instantly pulling herself back up. “I’ll take it from you. I’ll kill you and take _everything_.” The words came out in a breathless chuckle.

“What the hell, you asked me to give the Scale to Yugi,” Seto berated her around a hoarse cough.

“That’s _not Ishizu_ ,” the spirit shouted. How could Seto be so smart and such a _massive_ idiot. “We have to get out of here!” And he ran for the door.

Yugi’s legs weren’t fast enough. She tackled him to the floor, pinned him down. Under Malik’s control, she was so much stronger than expected. Shadows collected at the edge of the spirit’s mind, materialized in his hands and he desperately fought to get up.

From the corner of his eye he could see Seto rushing over, but her hands were _everywhere_ , scratching at his face, scrabbling for the bag on Yugi’s back, weight crushing down on Yugi’s small frame-

Frantic to get her off of him, he grasped for her throat with his hands coated in smoke, ready to stop her however he could - but she moved and his open palm caught the eye of the Millennium Tauk at her neck—

And his mind plunged into a cold pool of darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

The Millennium Puzzle was the apex of a channel between the shadow realm and the world of the living. Darkness may be a fearsome thing to the uninitiated; however the spirit had known nothing but this soft night for most of his existence. He had spent millennia drifting at this threshold, a single broken _ba_ serving as a stopper between universes.

Over his long servitude he had readily cast in any and every human foolish enough to approach the doorway he guarded. His task had never bothered him until recently.

Now he stood at the brink of the abyss, peering in, and _something peered back_. Shadows, slick and grimy unlike the fluid ones he had always known, bubbled up from the furthest depths of the shadow realm. They seeped past him, around the broken edges of his soul, into the real world.

A primordial god was pressing against the seal, and it was hungry.

***

He was waking from a dream.

Perhaps it had been a nightmare.

Whatever it might have been, it was gone before he could remember it, and he simply felt refreshed. He relished the warmth of the afternoon sun, dappled sunlight peeking through the broad leaves of the _nehet_ trees. The delicate scent of white jasmine in bloom hovered in the air.

The flooding season hadn’t yet begun. He could hear the river running through the reeds nearby, a babble instead of a rush. An ibis called from somewhere among them. He must have been wading in the shallow water earlier; his sandals were still wet, hadn’t even bothered to take them off before laying down, purple cloak spread out under him. Sand was dried to his calves and feet and in between his toes.

The court would be expecting him to return soon, but how he loved this quiet place on the outskirts of the palace grounds. A momentary escape from the incessant demands of his vizors and priests. He stretched out languidly on the hard earth, tucked his arms behind his head and gazed up at the trees shading him from the blazing midday heat. Let them wait just a little longer. There was nothing so urgent that he had to attend to this day.

“This is a beautiful place,” said a voice beside him. “Is this where you grew up?”

It should have shocked him, that someone would intrude here, presume to come so close to him. But he knew this voice. Someone trusted had come here with him, though he could not name who it was. His mind was still fogged from sleep. All he knew was this was no intrusion.

He turned his head to see who it was. A boy — no, a young man — was sitting beside him, with the palest skin he’d ever seen, the _strangest_ clothing, hair as untamed as his own, and… kind eyes. He didn’t recognize him, but his heart was at peace, relieved at the sight. The boy looked content as well, legs stretched out before him and leaning back on his hands as he took in their surroundings.

“These trees were planted by my great-grandmother,” he told the boy. “My ancestors were led to these lands by Mehet-Weret, and she cultivated this grove as an offering to Sekhmet.”

The boy hummed appreciatively. “It seems like a special place. I’m glad I’m able to see your memories of it.”

A memory? “I know this place, but I have no memory of you,” he confessed.

His visitor didn’t seem upset by this. “I suppose you wouldn’t here. We hadn’t met yet.” He looked down at him and smiled mirthfully. “You look good as a pharaoh.”

“I _am_ Pharaoh.” His admonishment only made the boy smile wider.

The sight made him dizzy with joy. They held each other’s gaze, and his pulse became a frenzied staccato in his chest. They were strangers, but he knew without a doubt that their hearts were close companions, roped together by some strange fate. The feeling was tinged by something at the edge of his thoughts, a dark sadness.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered, though he couldn’t remember the how or the why of it.

When he stretched out a hand to his unknown companion the boy took it easily, intertwining their fingers. The distant hum at the back of his mind persisted, protective and fierce and vengeful, but it seemed so far away. They were safe here, in this secret place. Nothing mattered beyond this person he had never met before, that a part of him had longed to see, that no part of him ever wanted to let go of.

“I’ve missed you too,” the boy answered. His expression became clouded. “I think I’ve been asleep for a while. Sometimes I dream of you.” He held on to their linked hands a little tighter. “…I think I’m dreaming right now.”

“Oh?” he smirked up at the boy, found great delight in the blush that spread across those pale cheeks.

“N-no, I mean- before I dreamt that someone attacked you. You were hurt. I didn’t know how to help.” He seemed truly upset by whatever he had witnessed, some attempt on the Pharaoh’s life. “You seem okay now though?”

The Pharaoh sat up, brought his other hand to his companion’s face, drank in the sight of those eyes he knew so well from… the future? His thoughts were muddled, kept drifting away before he could make sense of them.

“Your concern is misplaced. I am protected. The gods will not let any harm befall me.” He smoothed his thumb reverently across the softest skin he’d ever known. “We will protect you too,” he promised, and the words echoed through him. He had made such a vow before.

“You always have.” His companion raised his own hand, mirrored the touch.

Wonder and love filled him and he thought he might burst. At being here and sharing this contact with this trusted stranger, someone he cherished in another time. This tender gesture wasn’t enough, he wanted to pull him closer. But his body wouldn’t cooperate, a fog was gathering at the edge of his mind and he was being drawn back towards sleep against his will.

The sun and warmth faded from around him. That distant fear stole over him. He didn’t want to lose this. He needed something to hold on to. “Do I know your name?”

His companion let out a gentle laugh, squeezed their clenched hands reassuringly. “Of course you do. But have you remembered your _own_ name yet?”

***

“ _Pharaoh_.”

Someone was trying to rouse him. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, cheek resting on his hand. Thick wool throws and overstuffed cushions were strewn about the room. Morning sunlight poured in through the East windows, a cool breeze twisted around white linen curtains. He blinked at the senet board before him. Had he drifted off in the middle of a game?

His cousin Set was seated across from him, looking _supremely_ irritated. “If you don’t want to finish the game, at least resign.”

He looked at the pieces before him. Only two of his own were left on the board, to his cousin’s three. “We’ll wrap this up quickly,” he said and his cousin responded with a snort. He tossed the paddles, and deftly moved one of his pieces forwards.

“I understand why you might be preoccupied,” his cousin said as he took his own turn. His words might have been a thinly veiled pardon of the Pharaoh’s rude mid-game nap. Except Set was not a forgiving person.

“I don’t think you do,” he responded coolly, though his mind was spinning. Something was happening. Something very important. He couldn’t put his finger on it. What had he been doing before this? Why were his thoughts so disoriented?

“War is a difficult thing to face, especially after generations of prosperity. But our armies are strong.”

“I am the vanguard and the rearguard of men. This is my duty,” he countered firmly, though he wasn’t sure which war they were talking about. Hadn’t he recently learned about a terrible war? One that had spanned the world, with terrible machines, and terrible loss in the name of peace? He had a vision of a room full of foreign children in stiff uniforms, and he’d been one of them, listening to a scholar impersonally describe the horrors of their history.

A strange dream.

“That does not make it your duty to sacrifice your life,” his cousin snapped heatedly. “The Puzzle was not meant to be used this way!”

Ah, yes. The Millennium Items. The Dark games they played with souls. How their enemies now turned it against them. Retaliation for their hubris. How could he have forgotten?

Of course the Puzzle was meant for this. With it, every person under his protection was spared any misfortune, as he doled out justice to the fools and wretches who threatened his lands. And soon it would also save them from the traitorous darkness they had so unwittingly unleashed. He humoured his cousin as he took his next turn. “And what would you have me do instead?”

“Use someone else’s _ka_!” His cousin shouted, simultaneously moving his pieces to tie the game.

How he admired Set’s dogged insistence on this. His cousin may be cunning like the god of his namesake, but the Pharaoh couldn’t help but be amused by his miscalculations, this one in particular. There was no possibility any other _ka_ but the Pharaoh’s could provide the power they needed, the control over the shadows, the indominable will to seal them away forever. And even if there were another, he would never ask them to make that painful sacrifice in his place.

“It will be my _ka_ that we sacrifice, and my _ba_ that guards the Puzzle.” He returned his cousin’s glower. “And I expect you to do your part.” He moved ahead, one less piece on the board.

“If I’d known this was your plan when you gave me the Rod, I would never have accepted.”

Set had the Rod? Of course he did. It had always been meant for him, finely crafted and tuned like an instrument to resonate with his very soul. Just as the Puzzle had been created for the Pharaoh.

Why would he have the nagging thought that someone else held it? Someone who would use that power against them. It was a disconcerting notion. So many people were already in danger. His people? Of course. Who else would it be.

“It is too late for regret, cousin. I trust the counsel of the other priests, and this is the way.” There had already been too many days wasted on debate as their enemies drew closer. The Pharaoh moved his final piece off the board, securing this tiny victory. “Thank you for indulging me in a last game. I will see you tonight at the Altar.”

His cousin had a sour look on his face and wordlessly stormed out. He was always so dramatic about his losses. Always too focused on the battle before him to see the big picture. The Pharaoh’s eternal soul would shatter, shut off the Shadow Realm from the upper and lower kingdoms, and protect them all from a worse fate.

He stood, and only had a single horrified second to think _it is already done_ as darkness rushed up to swallow him.

***

“ _Mou hitori no boku_.”

Oh how those words, that voice, anchored him. If anything could summon a soul back from the dead, it was this. He opened his eyes, and there was _Aibou_ , standing beside him. His partner, in his own body, and the spirit was his transparent self. For a fleeting moment he wondered if everything was right with the world. He’d been starved by his prolonged absence and now his soul rejoiced at the proximity of their hearts. He wanted to dive into his partner’s soul room, cling to him, feel that light shine through the dusty corners of the puzzle.

But no — Yugi’s expression was imploring. They were not safe. The spirit tore his gaze away from his partner and saw they were standing on a pier. Instead of ocean water, they were at the edge of a churning sea of shadows.

Something gurgled just below the surface and a toxic haze drifted up into the air. The spirit could feel the darkness slipping past the seal of his fractured soul. These tainted shadows were feeding Malik’s power, and the spirit was helpless to stem the flow.

Crowds of people lined the docks. Malik’s empty puppets. They were stepping closer to the seawall. A final dark sacrifice on his journey to power. And coming towards them was the madman himself.

His partner was standing before him, holding the Key in one hand, the Scale in the other, and that cursed Puzzle around his neck. And he was _waiting_ , looking at the spirit with firm resolve.

“We have to stop him.”

The spirit didn’t know how to do that.

He was filled with dread but there was _trust_ coming from his partner. The spirit moved close, raised his hands to gently frame that face, and closed his eyes as he leaned forward to rest their foreheads together. He heard his partner’s soft exhale at the contact. Warmth saturated his heart.

He’d use all of his power, in whatever way he could, to protect him _._ “It’s going to be okay, _Aibou_.”

The other half of his heart smiled at him, and the shadows finally reached them.

***

_My right eye is the Evening Boat_   
_My left eye the Morning Boat_   
_My eyebrows are the Nine Gods, my brow is Anubis_   
_I am the White and the Red Crown_

The Pharaoh knew the invocations. Had helped to create them. The words flowed off his tongue. He could feel the power of the gods, felt their eyes turned on his mortal _khat_ , ravenous for his offering.

_O Anubis, by your will commend_   
_Night to embrace me, midnight shelter me_   
_Night’s early hours to place their guard upon me_   
_Born at night, whose life is made in darkness_

Duty kept his words steady but darkness was creeping over and through him, a lethal poison. His _ka_ in exchange for sealing the Shadow Realm from all who would abuse it.

_Let me be the guide of the northern horizon_   
_Which seizes spirits and has power over shadows_   
_I am the one who guards it, so none can approach it_   
_Our powers cannot be seized, our shadow cannot be overpowered_

His high priests surrounded him, each bearing a Millennium Item. Set still looked furious, but Mahaad was stoic. His trusted guardian gave an encouraging nod as the power of the puzzle burned through his heart.

_With your eyes as my protection_   
_This chaotic heart will hail your approach_   
_Fill the hearts of enemies with fear_   
_Bring the Two Lands and all their people to life_

Darkness boiled under his skin, light poured from his eyes, tore at every shred of his existence from the inside out.

_I am the divine falcon who rescues Ra from Aapep_   
_I speak justice, do justice, and it endures_   
_In this service I offer my eternal self_   
_For I am called --------_

***

The spirit felt like his head had been cleaved in two. Like a shattered mirror, hundreds of fragmented memories stabbed into him but he couldn’t make sense of them. Heavy rain was pounding against a window, and the noise made his head throb. He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, as though it might relieve the pain.

“About time,” his cousin — no, it was the modern Seto - was seated across the room, arms crossed.

He tried to take in the rest of the room. He was sprawled on a couch, somewhere in the Kaiba Corp suites. What had happened? Why was he here? Too many visions clambering through his senses. Where was _Aibou_?

“Is it… now?” he asked around his pounding headache.

Seto’s disgusted expression made him instantly regret his choice of words. “I don’t know what happened when Ishizu jumped you, but I didn’t expect you to wake up _stupid_.”

That’s right. She’d been controlled by Malik, and he’d… touched the Millennium Tauk. Wandered through pieces of his past and future. This was the present and his partner was still locked away.

“Where is she?”

“Sedated and restrained.” Seto looked as though he was expecting something from the spirit.

“Any sign of her brother?” They weren’t safe. As the pain behind his eyes subsided, panic returned. He needed the Key. He needed his partner so they could stop this.

Seto shook his head. “What I want to know, is if I should be worried about a similar _incident_ happening to Mokuba.”

The spirit finally met his eyes. _Yes_ , he thought. _Be very worried._ “It’s not just Mokuba. It’s _everyone_ that Malik has reached. He’s going to use them in a ritual sacrifice, try to turn himself into some kind of god.” He could see the doubt on Seto’s face and hurried to continue. “If I can get the Millennium Key away from him, I can…” _free Aibou._ The spirit could tackle everything else as long as they were together. Fix his broken mind, find his name, stop Malik.

“You’ll stop it,” Seto finished flatly. His skepticism of everything that was happening seemed to settle on the spirit himself.

“Yes.” _Somehow_. His head was still jammed full of disjointed memories, nonsensical flashes of his life as Pharaoh, overlaid with his current life with his partner. And some looming vision of darkness. He could feel it even now. He wanted to go home, find some private space and give his mind time to slot back together. He started to look for Yugi’s backpack, determined to make a hasty exit but– damn, Seto had it right beside him.

“You say my little brother is going to be _murdered_ , and I just have to trust _you_ to figure it out?” Seto spat. “Did Ishizu really convince you you’re some reincarnated king?”

 _And you were my cousin and visor._ “Something like that,” the spirit said instead. Set had, in fact, also been the one to hold the Millennium Rod. Could that be why he was resistant to Malik’s control? His reincarnated soul strong enough to fend off the power of the Items? “You don’t believe her, I wouldn’t expect you to listen to my explanation either.”

The spirit stood, then shuddered from head to toe as his head spun. The turbulent sensation faded after a long moment. Once he was steady enough he straightened himself and strode over to take Yugi’s bag.

Seto moved his leg to block it. He looked to be fighting an internal battle, his rational self against inexplicable reality. “I don’t care about whatever bullshit you’re involved in, Yugi. Just… what are you planning to do? How can I help Mokuba?”

The spirit kicked his foot out of the way and took the bag, checking to make sure the Scale was still inside. “Maybe next time you run into Malik, you can take the Millennium Items off of him. It’d be a big help.” he said dryly.

Seto didn’t appreciate the sarcasm and hmphed. “Is that all?”

The spirit didn’t want to admit there was actually no plan at all. A force of habit to keep his cards close. But he tried to be sincere as he elaborated, “I think I can find a way to use the Items to stop her brother.”

“I don’t see how magic tricks can fix this.”

The spirit rolled his eyes and headed towards the door. “ _Magical problems_ just might need _magical solutions_. But I can’t make you believe anything. When you’re done pretending this is all just a trick, come find me at the game shop.”

***

The house was quiet and dark when the spirit entered. His clothes were soaked from the rain, and he hurried to change, pulling on one of his partner’s oversized sweaters. It might have been vaguely comforting, but his name was still an unknown, as was any specific way to use the Scale to restore himself. More than anything he needed to sleep. Give his mind a chance to settle and hope that the jumbled memories would make more sense.

He checked the window to make sure it was locked and pulled the curtain closed before carefully placing the Scale on Yugi’s desk. It still hummed with energy. He sat down, put his chin in his hands, and considered it. Malik wanted it, most likely to use its power to weigh the souls of his human sacrifices. Ishizu wanted him to use it to restore the Pharaoh completely, merge all the pieces of his soul together. The specifics of the ritual must be in the scrolls, if not already hidden deep somewhere in his memories. He thought he could hear chanted words echoing from the puzzle, too faint to understand.

But in the meantime, there was at least one piece he could collect, that did not require the Scale or a sacred ritual. Merely a reckoning with the unknown part of himself dwelling in the puzzle. A fragment from when the Pharaoh’s soul was shattered. His own secret shadow.

A cold sweat was already beading on Yugi’s skin at the thought of approaching it. His headache from touching the Tauk still hadn’t fully subsided. He needed to sleep. And sleep would only bring him into that misty room.

_…stay broken…_

This hidden piece of himself, his _shuyet_ , knew he was incomplete for a reason. But did it know how Malik threatened them? That he was drawing out something monstrous, leaking darkness into the world?

Perhaps it could be persuaded. Any true piece of himself must be desperate to restore and protect his partner. And he had a duty to fix himself and repair the tenuous hold of his _ba_ in the Puzzle against the Shadow Realm.

The spirit let out a shaky breath. He would seek out his _shuyet_ , learn its secrets, restore at least this one small piece of himself.

He couldn’t help the worry that he might lose something of himself in the process.

***

The vast white room within the puzzle was unchanged, shrouded in an impenetrable fog. But this time his _shuyet_ was waiting for him.

Invisible as always, its ghastly air filled the space before him. Shadows, unbidden, crept around the spirit, whispering their treacherous warnings in his mind.

The spirit held still, expecting it to _move_ or _speak_ or _attack_.

It did nothing, merely hovered close enough to make goosebumps tingle up his arms. He knew if he reached out, his hands would pass through it. There was nothing to this piece of his soul, except the ominous weight of its presence.

“I know what you are,” he said, calmness belying the knots in his stomach.

Still nothing.

So he continued. “I’m going to restore my _ib_ and my _ren._ I need to be complete once again. Will you join me?”

It finally moved. A step away, and a pause.

The spirit followed.

Where once his _shuyet_ had echoed his steps in a mirrored pursuit, the spirit now followed its quiet path through the mist. And with every move he made towards it, the shadows clawed at him, tried to pull him back.

Still he followed. Fought through the fierce current of shadows to make his way through the white haze. Where was it leading him? What did the shadows fear?

Eventually the stone beneath his feet gave way to pale, cracked earth. And something huge loomed ahead.

As the spirit approached it the fog thinned. A massive, sprawling tree greeted him. A _nehet_ tree, planted by his ancestors. He knew it. Had sat underneath it’s branches countless times. Perhaps even once with his partner _,_ if his piecemeal visions from the Tauk could be trusted.

But the shadows didn’t like this mirage, clung to his wrists and ankles and neck and roared at him to turn away.

He no longer trusted them, they had betrayed him once already. Let them wail in his ears and tear as his limbs. Not that he trusted this vision either, but… what had Jounouchi said once? Fortune favours the bold.

The spirit considered the tree. This place was sunless, but it cast shade upon the dry ground. It was not like the shadows he knew. He could sense the presence of his _shuyet_ within it.

When he stepped into the shade of the _nehet_ tree, the darkness that clung to him was stripped away, silenced. He was protected here, under these wide branches.

 _Rest here_ rattled the dry leaves. The sound gnawed at his very bones. His broken soul felt weak here, as though what remained of his _ba_ could barely hold him together. No light from his partner, and now stripped of any shadow magic, there was hardly anything left to him.

He fought against his exhaustion. He could not rest here. There was no true rest until his partner was safe. He had to mend himself so he might have the strength to save Yugi _._

“I’m here to restore myself.” The words left his lips with more intensity than he felt he had within himself. The Puzzle was heavy around his neck, the full weight of an invisible seal against a timeless darkness dragging him down.

The air turned frosty. A severe _no_ pressed into his mind.

Golden heat involuntarily seared across his forehead, though no shadows could enter this sacred space. His impotence fueled his anger. This was not some vain effort to empower himself. It was for his partner!

“Be bound to me again,” he commanded.

A slew of words carved into him. _Eternal sacrifices._ The spirit fell against the tree as pain flashed through him, the sharp edge of that distant memory cutting him like it had the first time. _The seal must hold._

Whatever he had done in the past hardly mattered to the spirit now. The seal he had created was already breaking between Malik’s power and whatever was clawing out from the other side. The spirit would re-assemble himself, and bring down his fury, stop this game to put things right.

“Let me be complete,” the spirit panted. He squeezed his eyes shut against the sensation of something like sand grinding within his skull, tearing along the edges of whatever pieces of him remained. “I need to protect Aibou _._ ”

It was silent for a moment, considering. For a blessed moment, the intrusion in his mind waned.

 _Your_ ka _is bound to Sekhemty_. _His_ ka _for yours._

The spirit’s heart froze, hope vanishing at the words. Restoring his soul would cost him another?

_Let ours stay broken._

It was not a curse. It was a painful benediction.

The spirit sank to his knees. This piece of him knew the truth of his heart. If Yugi was the price to restore himself, then he would stay incomplete forever. 

Let his _shutyet_ hide here for the rest of eternity. Perhaps it would be the only piece of himself that remained when his _ba_ finally succumbed to the weight of the seal.

He closed his eyes, gave in to his exhaustion, and the shade of the _nehet_ tree faded into white mist.

***

The spirit woke up, not in bed where he had originally lain himself down to sleep, but flat on the floor of the living room.

Had his _shuyet_ possessed Yugi’s body again? He thought he might vomit from the bitterness that rolled through him. How _dare_ that useless wisp not only strip away his hope but trespass again where it was not welcome. It ought to stay buried and forgotten.

He hauled himself to his feet, and found himself face-to-face with a mirror, innocently hung upon the wall. His partner’s face looked back at him, and despair filled him. He may be livid at his circumstances, but he could not find it in himself disagree with his _shuyet_. He would stay incomplete. 

He traced his way back to Yugi’s room. The Millennium Scale still stood on the desk, humming its faint melody. It seemed more menacing now that he knew what it would take from him if he used it. Looking at it made him burn with contempt, so he left to busy himself with a shower, abandon his anger to instead tenderly clean the healing wound on Yugi’s neck.

When the hot water finally seemed to have washed away the underlying itch that came with a _visit_ from his _shuyet_ in Yugi’s body, he turned off the water, and could hear Sugoroku up and about in the kitchen.

The spirit found him brewing coffee. His papers and books covered the kitchen table, the scroll was partially unrolled.

“You must be glad it’s the weekend!” Yugi’s grandfather piped cheerfully. “Will you be helping me with the translation today? I think I’ve completed some segments that might be useful!”

The spirit had lost track of the days, time hardly seemed to make sense. And Sugoroku had no idea what he’d been through since leaving the hospital. He mutely accepted a mug of coffee and seated himself at the table.

When the spirit didn’t speak, Sugoroku valiantly continued. “A lot more people have been admitted since I saw you,” he said. The spirit could feel his gaze, his confusion. “I hope we can finish this soon. Do whatever it is you need to get your memories.”

The spirit was certain nothing would ever be right again, and offered no reassurance to Yugi’s grandfather.

Sugoroku gave the spirit a considering look. “I know you’re not really Yugi, but my grandson is who I see, and I can’t help but feel like such a burden shouldn’t be placed on you. But you’ll be able to help everyone, right?”

He wanted Sugoroku to stop speaking. Seeking a distraction, the spirit wordlessly pulled the scroll towards himself.

And the script sharpened into comprehensible shapes before him.

_I have come before you, O Safkhet,_   
_So that you may restore my mantle_   
_Clear the road for my soul_   
_That I may command the northern horizon_

Some residue of his _shuyet_ remained within Yugi, in these shared eyes. The knowledge it kept hidden deep inside the puzzle was close enough to the surface for him to use it.

_O Anubis - see my ka is content_   
_As I flourish, my ka flourishes_   
_Cut this offering from me_   
_This is its end in peace_

Yugi’s heart stuttered in his chest. If the spell in this scroll would restore his soul in exchange for his partner’s, he didn’t want it. Yugi was not a sacrifice. But even as the spirit looked away the words rang through his mind, an echo of a memory. He knew the invocations already. Ancient words long ago burned into him. Spells to break him apart, and spells to build him anew.

He would never speak them.

The spirit tore at the thin paper.

“Yugi! Stop, what are you doing?” Sugoroku tried to save the papyrus, but the froze at the sight of his rabid expression.

The spirit shred it further, felt feverish as shadows spread from his fingers to steep the scroll in black. He wanted to rampage through his soul room, set fire to that _tree_. Burn every vestige of his past self. If restoring himself would destroy Yugi in exchange, none of it was worth preserving.

“I don’t understand…” Sugoroku backed away from him, at a loss. “I thought you needed this!”

“This is not the way to stop Malik,” he hissed. “This demanded an offering I cannot pay.”

Yugi’s grandfather must have understood the implication, gave up any further effort to preserve the texts he’d been slaving over. They stood in the kitchen, not another word spoken as they watched the thin paper dissolve into shadows.

***

Sugoroku departed for the hospital to wring his hands at the bedside of Yugi’s mother. The spirit had no sympathy to offer. Instead he languished around the house. Yesterday’s rain had settled into a steady drizzle. Not that it mattered — if he stayed here or went outside, there was nowhere to go that could solve his problems, soothe his lonely grieving.

So he lay, listless, on the couch. He felt like he could hardly fill Yugi’s body. A melancholy starvation around the edges of his soul where his partner should have been. He desperately wanted his partner back, but what was the point if the spirit would still be too broken to fend off Malik? Incomplete, he was powerless to take back the Items. Unable to restore the seal on the Shadow Realm.

How long until that maniac would come again for the Scale, ready to exact his human sacrifice?

The spirit could see the injustice of it. That he would let hundreds perish — Yugi’s friends and family included — keep himself incomplete for the sake of protecting one soul. But his partner was not merely a vessel for the Pharaoh. He was a companion to his heart. A soul equal to— no, much greater than his own. It was too high a price. 

_Companion_ … a hazy memory came to him, of intertwined fingers, sitting in a grove on the banks of the Nile. Those soft hands had been a greater reprieve than the shade from any tree. His partner had said he’d been dreaming, their hearts drawn together for that brief moment as the spirit tumbled through the visions in the Tauk. The spirit heaved a longing sigh. He wished sleep brought him somewhere other than the puzzle, that he could dream and at least mingle there with the soul of his partner, if the real world would not be so kind.

The doorbell chimed. He ignored it. He didn’t have the energy to deal with Seto. And if it was Yugi’s friends, he didn’t have the heart. He wanted to waste away in peace, find some way to drift into a shared dream with his partner _._ Perhaps the two of them could leave all this behind, find peace in another plane of existence.

It rang, more persistently. The noise was irritating enough that he let himself be summoned to the door.

A warning flashed in his mind. His hand paused on the handle.

A second later a fist crashed through the door, punched it off its hinges into the house.

It was a crew of familiar faces — Jounouchi, Honda, Anzu at the forefront, Ishizu and Mokuba further back, but their eyes were all empty of any expression, hollow and soulless.

“Pharaoh, the gods are waiting for you,” the vacant puppet of Jounouchi breathed. His face split in a cruel smile. “Come join your friends for a feast.”


	6. Chapter 6

It took no time for Mokuba to find the Millennium Scale in Yugi’s room.

“You kept this safe for me, instead of using it for yourself? Ha!” Mokuba flaunted it as he cackled with Malik’s voice. “Who knew the Pharaoh was so eager to free the gods!”

The spirit did not dignify him with a response, and put up no fight as he was pushed into the empty streets. Jounouchi and Honda held him firmly, strong hands gripping his shoulders. He didn’t know where they were taking him, resented Malik’s heavy-handedness with Yugi’s body, but he walked with his head high, did his best to exude a relaxed confidence.

Seeing Mokuba and Ishizu had given him a thread of hope. Seto wouldn’t have let his brother just wander out of Kaiba headquarters, the spirit reasoned. He must be somewhere nearby, hopefully uninjured and still immune to Malik’s power, ready to intervene and protect Mokuba should things go sideways.

The spirit would bide his time too.

Scores of others joined them as they walked, people streaming out of houses and alleyways and shops, lurching along in a joyless march. If there was anyone Malik had not reached, they were hiding, terrified.

He was led past the charred rubble of the warehouse where Malik had first demonstrated his power. Where that fire had run wild and the puzzle shattered. Where his partner had been locked away from him. The spirit clenched Yugi’s burned hands. A testament to his partner’s iron will. He would fight too.

Their procession ended at the Domino city port. The storm had let up, but the fresh scent of the rain and ocean was obscured by the stench of fish and heavy machinery and oily bilge.

The spirit was crowded towards a pier where thousands of others waited. Their blank faces stared out to the horizon. He thought he spotted Sugoroku and Yugi’s mother among them.

He could not go to them, he was still flanked by Yugi’s friends and they roughly pushed him towards the seawall. When they stopped, he was close enough to peer down into a black sea. The ocean’s surface reflected no light. Instead it was a turbulent froth of polluted shadows. 

Something much older than the spirit gnashed its jaws and writhed its serpentine body. It was not yet free, not yet able to push past the surface of the water, but the spirit knew it would not be long. He could feel it clawing at him from somewhere deeper, not just here in the physical world, but also gnawing at his _ba_ within in the Puzzle.

There was a steady hiss as it sucked in darkness from the real world and the shadow world. What had once been a trickle was now a torrent escaping around the gaps of his soul, shadows sweeping through the weakened seal within the Puzzle. And he was powerless to redirect the current, felt like he might be drawn into that hungry pit himself. 

With a grunt he forced himself to turn away. He looked back at the people around him. He’d been here. In the Tauk. It was somewhat different now, but Yugi had been holding the Key in that vision. There had to be a way to free him. _How…?_

The Scale in Mokuba’s hands continued to sing its dreaded note in his mind. The nearby Tauk at Ishizu’s neck as well. If he really stretched his dulled senses… what must have been the Key and the Rod buzzed from a distance.

Malik was here. There would be no relying on his old magic now. He’d have to gamble on a different sort of dark game. He gave one last cautious glace to Yugi’s friends. There was nothing to do but go for it. He couldn’t wait for Malik’s next move. 

The spirit ducked out from under Honda and Jounouchi’s hands and lunged straight for Mokuba. He gasped the boy’s collar with both hands and, before anyone could reach out to stop him, he pushed Mokuba backwards until the boy’s feet slipped off the edge of the dock.

Mokuba made no noise, simply went limp as his feet dangled over that foul black sea. But he was not free of Malik - his fist was still clenched tight around the Millennium Scale.

“Malik!” the spirit shouted. “Come out if you don’t want to lose the Scale!” The spirit fought to hold him up. Yugi’s body was not strong enough to do this for long. And while he’d tossed plenty of souls into the Shadow Realm before, at the height of his power, that was not his intention today.

The faces of Yugi’s friends stared at him blankly for a moment, then dropped their outstretched hands. They backed away and revealed Malik, striding towards him, looking victorious. A toxic plume of shadows trailed in his wake. His footsteps left the ground streaked by a poisonous tar.

“Trying to skip a step, Pharaoh?” he laughed. “You may have forgotten, but there is an order to these things!” He brandished the Rod, and the spirit felt shadows twist around his feet.

The spirit was fighting to keep Mokuba held out over the ledge but turned his head enough to hold Malik’s gaze. He couldn’t risk him looking away. “I remember everything,” he bluffed. “Your family served me for generations and now you would sacrifice even your sister for your own gain!”

Malik’s expression turned vicious as he closed the distance between them. “My family _suffered_ for generations! Lived lives worse than _insects_ for a forgotten tyrant when we should have been _gods_!”

The spirit leered as Malik stretched a hand towards him. “I’ll drop him, along with the Scale,” he declared. It wasn’t a lie - he felt his grip on Mokuba’s shirt slipping. “I don’t think you’ll be able to fish anything out of that.” He nodded towards the swirling vortex.

Malik paused, and it was enough.

Seto was here, had come up silently behind Malik like a rising storm. Malik let out a stunned gasp as a hand grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked his head back.

“Kaiba! The Key!” the spirit shouted.

Seto didn’t need instructions. His furious eyes met the spirit’s as he brought his other hand around to rip at the Key hanging from Malik’s neck. The cord snapped easily, and he flung it at the spirit. “Take the damn thing! And give me my brother!”

The spirit hauled Mokuba back onto solid ground, and the boy crumpled into a heap as he let go. He snatched up the Key, felt it vibrate in his hands and–

Malik had already recovered from his surprise, had whipped open the Rod to reveal the dagger hidden in it. He slashed it upwards towards Seto.

The knife caught him deep in the gut and Seto let out a sharp hiss of pain.

But he refused to release his grip on Malik. Seto bodily pushed him towards the edge of the dock. “No one fucks with my family,” he growled, and callously shoved him over and into the murky sea.

Malik let out a wrathful snarl – and was swallowed up by darkness before he even touched the surface.

The spirit stared after Malik, shocked that this had actually played out in his favour, until Seto rounded on him, pointing an accusing finger.

“And _you!_ That goes for you too!” He coughed, and there was blood on his lips. His other hand clutched the wound in his stomach.

The spirit expected he would never hear the end of this until Seto’s dying breath, and so ignored him to turn his attention to the Key in his hand. He had recovered it against all his expectations and it had a surprizing amount of heft. He pointed it towards Mokuba, testing it. The eye of Anubis glowed faintly and energy tingled down his arms, numbed the tips of his fingers. Then something he couldn’t precisely hear _clicked_.

Mokuba groaned and opened his eyes, and Seto was at his side instantly. “Big brother? …Where are we?”

Seto fussed over him, and then threw a dirty look over his shoulder. “This doesn’t excuse what you just did!”

The spirit didn’t much care about Seto’s grudges. “You should get to a doctor,” he advised but Seto had already pulled out a cellphone to call his valet.

Unlocking just that one heart had sapped the spirit’s energy. He looked from the Key to Yugi’s friends, still standing around him, aimless and mindless. At the thousands of others gathered on the docks. He wouldn’t be able to do this as he was. Could he really run from this? Abandon all these people? Now that he was faced with it he felt a sorrow and disappointment that could have just as well belonged to his partner.

The beast in the water called for him with renewed vigour. Black sludge was beginning to ooze out of the sea, a slow gurgle inching towards them.

He cursed, scooped up the Scale and backed away from the seawall. He couldn’t unlock every heart at once, certainly didn’t have the energy to even attempt such a thing. And Malik had fallen with the Rod still in his hands – there was no easy way to move everyone to safety.

“Kaiba, take your brother and get away from here, _now,_ ” he ordered.

Seto had noticed what was happening as well, though the spirit was pretty sure he was pale from blood loss and not fear. “And what are _you_ going to do?” 

There was only one thing he wanted to do. Everything else… “I’ll figure it out.”

Seto looked as unconvinced now as he had the last time the spirit had said such a thing, but he didn’t argue. Instead he ushered Mokuba away. “You’d better, Yugi. You owe me _at least_ three duels for this bullshit.”

The spirit was surprized he didn’t expect more. He doubted he would be here much longer at this rate, but if his _ba_ did happen to survive… well. He couldn’t help his wolfish grin. “If you say so,” he said over the thumping whirr of a descending helicopter.

***

As soon as Seto and Mokuba were lifting away to safety, the spirit retreated from the rising tide and the horde of hollow people. There was nothing he could do for them. And selfishly he wanted only one thing. He ducked through an alley behind a warehouse and stacked shipping containers, dropped to a seat with his back against the wall, and readied himself.

His thoughts were spinning with _Aibou Aibou Aibou_ as his hands turned the Key to point at Yugi’s heart. He summoned the power he could— a wisp of darkness, hardly more than the smoke of an extinguished candle, sifted through his fingers and into the Key. 

He waited. Even Yugi’s beating heart seemed to pause in anticipation. And then… there was that telltale tingling up his hands and arms. The Key glowed brilliantly and he heard that _click_ once again.

The invisible barrier to this partner’s soul room dissipated, light flooded through him, and he let his mind fall into the puzzle.

***

The spirit dashed through the labyrinth of his heart, barreling straight for the door that would open into the corridor he shared with Yugi. He was starved for him, felt like he hadn’t breathed since the day of that fire, hadn’t felt a single true emotion until now, had forgotten that there existed things such as _joy_ and _colour_ in the world. 

Already the radiant presence of Yugi’s soul was there, reconnecting with his. He thought his legs might give out from under him as his partner’s emotions crashed into him.

His hands landed on the door, and he hauled it open, and _there_ –

Right there on the other side, helping push that heavy stone door out of the way–

“ _Aibou_ ,” he cried, as his partner launched himself into the spirit’s waiting arms.

“ _Mou hitori no boku!”_ Yugi clung to him, melted into him. The spirit’s legs finally gave out, and they sank to the stone floor in a tangled heap, impossible to tell who was laughing or crying through their relieved sobs.

Emotions thrummed wildly between them, so intense the spirit could hardly think. How he had forgotten what this felt like! How had he lived without it? He took his partner’s face in his hands, kissed the tears that stained his cheeks as _I missed you, I missed you_ tumbled out around ragged breaths. Yugi managed to chuckle as he brought his own hands to the spirit’s face and brushed his Other’s tears away.

“It’s okay, _mou hitori no boku_ , I’m okay,” he tried to pacify him, but the spirit just bundled him closer, one arm wrapped around his back, the other tangled in his hair, pressed more kisses to his temple. Yugi returned the embrace, curved into the spirit’s neck. _I was scared I would never see you again_ rushed along their link, and the spirit wasn’t sure who had thought it.

Time was an abstract concept within the puzzle, and so they sat together until the tidal wave of feelings through their bond ebbed to something less desperate. The spirit continued to pepper his partner’s face and hands and hair with adoring kisses and disbelieving touches.

Yugi was the first to pull away, just a bit, and he fixed a searching look upon the spirit. “Is everything alright? What’s been happening while I was sleeping?”

The spirit met his gaze, and realized far too late that he’d left the floodgates of his emotions open, all his desperation and rage and sadness set loose along with his delirious happiness. His heart stuttered in his chest. He didn’t know where to start.

Yugi tried to rescue him from his floundering. “Did I dream of you as a Pharaoh? I was kind of expecting you to show up all decked out like that again.” He gave him a cheeky grin, a mischievous spark in his eyes.

The spirit relished the sensation in his heart that came with it, but he couldn’t find it in himself to return it in this moment.

“Yes, that was me,” he said, subdued. “Ishizu’s brother Malik shut you away, and she said I needed all my memories again before I could fight him.” She had been wrong in this, and he was glad for it. He had some pieces of his memories now and he still felt tattered, but at least he had Yugi’s life and light to fill in the gaps. He didn’t want or need his past, or the rest of his soul. “It’s okay now though, my memories don’t matter anymore.”

“But you found them?”

“Sort of.” The spirit winced at his own evasive words, but… so much had fallen apart in his partner’s absence.

Yugi must have sensed the fear in him. But unlike anyone else he would not let the spirit do anything except face it head on. Yugi’s expression was soft but his voice was firm when he said, “Tell me, _mou hitori no boku_.”

The spirit would deny his partner nothing, wanted only truth between them as painful as it might be. So he took Yugi’s hands in his and began to tell him all that had happened while his partner had slept.

***

They sat on the ground, in that stone corridor between their hearts, still holding each other close, hands clasped together. The spirit told his partner about Malik’s unexpected power. The monster crawling out of the ocean as his _ba_ , the seal on the Shadow Realm, gave way.

He spoke of the many people who would soon be lost.

He did not mention his encounters with his _shuyet_ though. It felt too dangerous to speak of it here within the Puzzle. He feared it would take his words as an invitation to wander from its white room. But he did tell his partner of how he had sought to restore the pieces of soul using the Scale, and his grandfather’s hapless work on translating the texts gifted to him by Ishizu.

“I gave up on it,” he admitted.

Yugi had listened carefully, withheld any judgement and questions until now. “But what about my family? My friends?”

“The spell to bind me back together would cost me _you._ ”

A chill shuddered between them. But the spirit also felt the pulse of his partner’s stubborn, fearless heart.

“I can’t let them be hurt. I would—”

“No,” he growled. Yugi’s generous heart in exchange for the safety of his loved ones? The spirit couldn’t allow such selflessness.

“Another way, then.” Yugi conceded slowly as he stood, pulling the spirit up with him. He brightly added, “I know we’ll manage as long as we have each other.” 

His partner’s optimism was truly boundless, and the spirit desperately wanted to believe it. Perhaps together they _would_ be enough. He did feel stronger now that they were reunited. The shadows of his heart were no longer as grey and dim as they had been while he was alone. The tide of darkness from the Puzzle had waned. 

Maybe now he could call back the shadows, restore order to the world and his partner’s life.

Yugi stepped in close to wrap the spirit in another tight hug. “Thank you for watching over me this whole time,” he said. “You had to do so much on your own.”

The spirit wound his hands around his partner, buried his face in his hair. _Anything for you_.

His partner heard him, squeezed him once more, and then Yugi’s living spirit shifted outwards into his own body.

***

The spirit joined his partner on the docks. Yugi flashed him a grateful smile, and the spirit felt the colourful emotions rush through him. He was transparent now, but hadn’t felt so good in weeks. Being here with Yugi was what he knew to be right, and his partner felt the same.

Yugi took in his surroundings. “We’re at the port?”

The spirit nodded and looked around as well. The sky was darker than before. Unnatural clouds, tinged black and purple, hung low. A mist was rising up to join them. It drifted within the puzzle as well, tugged at his _ba_ and the places where his soul merged with Yugi’s. He feared he would be pulled apart again soon. The spirit wondered if his partner could feel the sinister threat.

But Yugi hadn’t noticed the clouds, was instead curiously examining the two unfamiliar items in his hands. He frowned when he noticed his skin from wrist to fingertips was mottled by pink scars. “I’m sorry,” he apologized.

The spirit couldn’t fathom why his partner would be saying such a thing.

“It must have been painful while they healed,” Yugi answered in response to the spirit’s confusion.

“It was nothing.” Any physical discomfort had been incomparable to the absence of his partner. Though… He reached out, ghosted his fingers over the gash on Yugi’s throat. It was heavily scabbed and looked so much worse now that he could see it from the outside. _I should have done better,_ he lamented.

Yugi shook his head, brought his own hand to his neck. His touch passed through the spirit’s.

_You shouldn’t have had to face him alone._

There was a protectiveness in his partner, a fierce devotion mirrored between their hearts. The spirit drifted towards him, so the edges of his form faded into Yugi. His partner stood still so the spirit could press close, his body shivering at the imagined contact.

_Aibou…_

Yugi’s expectant eyes met his, and the spirit could only think that he would happily die a thousand deaths to protect this person. Live a thousand lifetimes of suffering to spare him any pain. And he had to protect him now. How much longer did he have? He dragged himself away, refused to let himself fixate on the soft breath his partner released. Pulled his attention back to the ominous air surrounding them.

“Malik was summoning something from the Shadow Realm,” he spoke aloud, abandoning the intimacy of their mental link. “You have to get away from here.”

“What about everyone else?”

The spirit shook his head. How could he make his partner understand? He didn’t have the strength to fight this, all he could do was keep him safe.

His partner didn’t agree – there was a prickly determination coming from his heart. A brief and wordless disagreement filtered between them, but it was Yugi’s body, Yugi’s family and friends and life. The spirit could only follow as his partner left the alley, and turned the corner back towards the docks.

As soon as they turned that corner, it was too late to ever hope to convince him otherwise. Yugi let out an alarmed gasp when he saw the sheer number of people gathered there. They were all unmoving and silent.

“Can’t we use the Key? Wake them up?”

“Not on everyone. Not all at once.”

Yugi was not able to sense the descending clouds, but he could see something dark and rotten boiling over the seawall. He took off at a sprint towards his friends. “We have to get them to move!”

He latched on to the first person he reached, shook Jounouchi by the arms. “Wake up! Jounouchi!” Their friend gave no firm resistance but his feet stayed rooted in place. 

“ _Aibou_ , let me.” Resigned in the wake of his partners adamance, the spirit nudged him out of his body, gently took control. There was no way he would be able to help everyone, but this was at least something. Yugi’s best friend.

He held up the Key and pulled some shadows to him – he was able to wrestle at least a few more into obedience than he had earlier. But he felt his hands and arms deaden, pins and needles running all the way up to his shoulders as the Item activated. He ignored the warning, instead watched Jounouchi’s face as he felt that hidden lock give way.

Awareness returned and Jounouchi stumbled back. “...Yugi?” He blinked and looked around. “What’s going on?”

He could feel Yugi sag with relief beside him. But it was short lived.

Before the spirit could answer him, the recognition drained from Jounouchi’s face, replaced with something savage. His hand snapped out, and he caught the shocked spirit by the throat, and _squeezed_.

Behind Jounouchi he saw it. Malik, or something of him, was climbing over the edge of the dock, coated in thick, amniotic darkness.

Black and putrid bile dripped from his laughing mouth, and the spirit froze as their eyes locked. The Rod gleamed, untarnished, in his hand.

The spirit grit his teeth and tried to struggle against the choking grip but his numbed body wouldn’t obey, and the Items slipped from his helpless hands. His partner’s panic and confusion rang through his mind, amplified his own to something frantic, and in desperation he reached out with his senses to grasp at shadows. Magic. Anything.

Nothing came to his aid. The golden mark on his forehead did not even appear.

His partner was an apparition at his side, shouting something, but the spirit couldn’t hear anything over the rush in his ears. A waterfall of shadows resumed their punishing cascade over the remains of his _ba._ They billowed through him and the Puzzle and into the world.

There wasn’t enough of him left to form a seal. There was no power left within him. He was finished.

With a gasp, he was booted out of Yugi’s body. His partner had taken back control, and the spirit lost his grip on the real world.

***

_Foolish._

The spirit groaned, barely able to open his eyes. He was sprawled on pale cracked earth, weighed down by an exhaustion that was nearly done consuming him. The skeletal branches of the ghostly _nehet_ tree stretched above him. Its bark had flaked away to reveal stark white wood. It had shed all its leaves and the top of it was obscured by the encroaching fog. It was wasting away, as he was.

His _shuyet_ lingered the faded shade of the dying tree.

“Go away,” the spirit hissed. There was enough left in him to be angry at himself. He hated it. Hated how it made him feel. Hated everything it represented. Hated the words it spoke and how they stabbed into him. He wanted to get out of here, find a way back to his partner, but his decrepit soul would never leave this place again.

The presence remained.

 _You forgot,_ it scolded.

“Anything in particular?” he snapped. How could it imply this was his fault? He would have razed the world for his partner. It was cruel to expect him to willingly sacrifice that one precious thing in exchange for memories he didn’t even want.

Instead of the grating static of words, something intangible slotted into his mind. A lucent thought placed into him, reminiscent of when his partner had placed the final piece of the Puzzle together.

With it came a moment of painful clarity. It brought to mind each of the many Shadow Games he had played, the countless human souls he’d rendered apart and discarded into the Shadow Realm. And he was reminded they had served a purpose. They were his own dark sacrifices. Souls to feed his _ba_ , fuel for the long-dead king tasked with guarding the gate between worlds.

It was true—he _had_ forgotten their significance. So when Yugi had begged him to stop, all those months ago, he had obliged his beloved partner’s wishes.

And now his partner was out there, suffering for the spirit’s ignorance and misguided benevolence.

The spirit shuddered. A spreading numbness pricked along his arms and legs, up his neck. It was too late to change anything now. He was a wasted, dying _ba_ that would soon vanish without a trace. And he would leave nothing behind but a bitter aftertaste of regret in the puzzle. He had failed in his most basic duties. Left his partner unprotected, left the shadows free to devour the world. Every heartfelt promise he had ever made was worthless.

The _shuyet_ saw the _ba_ in hopeless mourning. And so it offered up a solution.

More little golden tokens slipped into the spirit’s mind, carefully arranged around the jumbled bits he already had.

“ _Stop_ ,” the spirit wept. His _shuyet_ could feed him all the memories it wanted, but he would not use the Scale for that binding spell.

It stopped.

_He can die in vain, or he can die for something._

A terrible choice to make.

Either way, he would never know peace again. But he knew the heart of his partner. Yugi was selfless and brave in ways the spirit could never understand. And for Yugi, he could try to do the right thing, one last time.

The spirit’s despair was crushing as he nodded with the last of his strength. And as he did, the ground under him quaked. The roots of the tree snaked out of the dry soil to twist around him, dragged him down into the earth. The branches above erupted in an explosion of fresh green growth that banished the fog.

Half buried, shaded by a dense new canopy of leaves, the Pharaoh remembered his forgotten name.

***

The Pharaoh was not merely a _ba_ trapped in the Puzzle.

He was a bastion of ancient justice. He was the divine falcon who heralded the approach of the gods and struck fear into the prideful hearts of men.

Somewhere in his drifting slumber his chaotic human heart had lost its way. Faltered in its watch over the northern horizon of the Shadow Realm.

No matter. He once again held the pieces of himself and today he would remind that conniving snake Aapep of the order of the world.

 _Atem_ stepped out of the puzzle into the world of the living.

***

Atem found Jounouchi putting up a valiant fight against Malik’s control. Their friend was strong enough to find himself, resist that dark magic, and had released his grip on Yugi. He had stumbled back and away to put as much distance as he could between his treacherous hands and his friend. He tore at his hair as he tried to shake the monster from his mind.

And Yugi was on his knees, hands around his swollen neck, coughing, trying to catch his breath.

As he was, the Pharaoh still had no power here, but his ghost knelt beside Yugi, placed a gentle hand on his back.

Yugi turned to look at the spirit, and choked on another cough. “ _M-Mou hitori no boku_?”

Atem supposed he was a shocking sight from what his partner was used to. He could feel the weight of the golden crown on his brow, the heavy cape draped over his shoulders and the soft linin of his kilt and tunic. “I am here, dear heart,” he soothed.

Yugi was wide-eyed and lost for words. Atem wanted to give him more time, but there was none to spare. His soul was not yet complete, and a ravenous hunger gnawed at him from the inside out, was devouring the little he still held together.

And Malik was boldly standing on the edge of the dock. He was hardy human anymore, bound to the darkness called Aapep that was slowly boiling out of the Shadow Realm, but he was strong, and summoning the people gathered on the docks towards him. It would be their end if they touched that poisoned darkness.

“Will you bind me and make my spirit strong?” Atem knew it was too much to ask of his partner, but this duty could only be fulfilled together.

Yugi couldn’t take his eyes away from the illusion before him, but nodded and _trust_ washed over their joined hearts. “We have to stop him,” he breathed hoarsely as he groped for the Scale and the Key that had been discarded on the ground.

They stood together, and Atem reached out to cradle Yugi’s face. How he adored his noble, courageous partner. “It’s going to be okay, _Aibou_ ,” he promised as he pressed a kiss to his forehead. He would see to it that no one would lose their life here but himself.


	7. Chapter 7

Atem was a god-king, by birthright and old magic and blood sacrifice, and it was his duty to banish this evil from the world. But he also had a duty to his heart. It was only with Yugi’s determination and permission that he could bear this task.

He wrapped his transparent hand over Yugi’s, around the pillar of the Millennium Scale, and heard Yugi inhale sharply as he stepped _into_ his partner. But instead of taking control, he brought both of their souls to the deep place from which his life flowed.

They both opened their eyes and found themselves standing under the _nehet_ tree. The tree was no longer dying, as his scattered soul had been. It was instead lush like the ones he knew from his ancient home. Resplendent with green leaves, sturdy boughs laden with many figs. The fog had thinned and a vague, sourceless light filtered through. The tree cast a broad circle of shade, but even darker was Atem’s own shadow below his feet. There was no sentience to it anymore. All that it had held was now where it ought to be, within him and around him and connected to him.

Yugi frowned as he examined the tree. “ _Mou hitori no boku…_ Are we inside of the puzzle?”

“We are,” he said. Some illusion of the Millennium Scale had arrived with them, and he placed it fully in Yugi’s hands. It was not him, but _Yugi_ who would be the one to use it. Their fingers brushed together, and Yugi tried to catch his hand, but he pulled away quickly. “Please hold on to this—"

“…Is it alright if I still call you that?” Yugi interrupted, suddenly nervous. “Or should I call you Atem instead?”

Atem felt his heart stick in his throat. “Just because I remember who I was does not change who I am or who you are to me. I hope that our hearts may stay partners until the end of time.” 

He wanted to offer his partner some kind of physical reassurance, but he could not afford such ruinous indulgences if he was to go ahead with this. He had only the faintest hope that this would work out as he planned, that Yugi’s sacrifice would be short lived. And there was no ignoring the distant awareness of Yugi’s body right now. Usually one of them always occupied it, or laid it to rest carefully before retreating to the puzzle. But right now it was as vulnerable as all the others on the docks, and it had to be kept safe too. Malik and the darkness that was consuming him would not be wasting any time. 

Atem lifted his palm, and instead of placing it on Yugi’s cheek, as he wanted to, he turned to rest it against the trunk of the tree. He could feel a universe within it. A different door than the one his soul barricaded between the physical world and the shadows. This was a gateway of life and death, to the gods.

“I wish we could stay here longer, but we have further to go, _Aibou_.” He then addressed the tree itself, in the ancient tongue he now remembered. “ _I come before you that you may open the road for me_. _This is what you are commanded to do for me by Osiris for eternity.”_

In response, a violent wind whipped up the sand, a microcosm of a sudden storm. It twisted and shook the leaves, and with a thunderous crack, the tree splintered down the middle. Half of it dead, the other still thriving.

In the space between was a soft night.

Yugi peered in to the opening and shivered. “Whatever is in there… I can feel it.”

Atem nodded. “They will be waiting for us.” He paused to meet Yugi’s eyes. Tried to think of something reassuring to say. “My hope is that all of this will be only temporary. We’ll do this, and afterwards I will come back for you.” He doubted any god would willingly give up a prize like Yugi, but he didn’t know of any other way to right all these troubles.

Yugi nodded, and, as though he wasn’t the one about to make a terrible offering, he tried to reassure the growing reluctance in Atem: “I know, _mou hitori no boku_. I’ll do everything you need. Just promise you will save everyone.”

Atem thought he might fall apart right here. Yugi was far too good for him. “Anzu made me promise something similar,” he let out a broken laugh. How recklessly optimistic he had been then. Perhaps he still was, now. But if he didn’t have hope, there was only darkness and despair waiting for them all. 

“Then let’s not keep them waiting any longer.” Yugi slipped his free hand into Atem’s.

He held on tight, anchoring himself to Yugi’s selfless courage. “Stay close,” he said, and led them through the trunk of the _nehet_ tree.

***

Beyond the tree, they found a stone path, flanked on both sides by tall reeds. A moonless sky stretched above them, dotted with unfamiliar constellations. There was still enough light to see the way. Either the sun had recently set, or would soon be rising, if time worked in such a linear way here.

They began to walk, and a soft flutter of black wings shifted above them.

_‘Why have you come here?’_

“ _Darkness falls upon my lands_ ,” Atem answered. Only truth could be spoken here, but he owed little more than half-truths to this watchful scout.

 _‘What have you brought us?’_ it asked, a predatory leer in its tone.

“ _Do not be hostile to me, I seek the Keeper of the Balance.”_ He was a Pharaoh and would not tolerate any insolence. Not from such puny spirits. There were more dangerous things here. He was one of them. Or would be once again, soon.

Whatever was in the air beside them soared away without another word. Yugi shuffled closer to Atem, pressed against his side. “Who was that?” he whispered.

“There are many spirits here. You will draw some attention.” Atem understood it, the hunger of those old gods and creatures. Yugi’s bright, _living_ soul called to them all, himself included. “But they will not hurt you as long as you are with me.” At least, he hoped so.

“Will it hurt when…” Yugi faltered in his steps. Atem could feel the fear suddenly blossom in his partner’s heart. Rightfully so. It would be here, in this strange and quiet place, that Yugi would give his life in secret. The ordeal would not be painless.

Atem remembered vividly how it had felt to be split apart, his _ka_ cut away, and his _ba_ bound to darkness. Slow and excruciating. And he would bind and break himself a hundred times over to protect Yugi. But his partner would be strong enough to bear it this just once. And Atem would then spend the rest of his existence making it up to him.

It was the only way. If they returned to the world of living, with him as he was... it wouldn’t be just Yugi that would be hurt. And disappointing Yugi was perhaps a fate worse than anything else. 

The sorrow must have been all too obvious on his face, and his silence too long, because Yugi apologized.

“Forget it. We’ll get through it. I’m just glad to be able to help you. It’s only fair, after everything you’ve done for me.”

It wasn’t fair at all, Atem thought bitterly. Yugi deserved a long life, unmarred and undisturbed by such dark trials. Curse Malik and the gods and the shadows. And curse all the good things that made Yugi so quick to offer himself.

“I guess the _Keeper of the Balance_ is waiting for this?” Yugi went on, holding up the Millennium Scale and forcing a lightheartedness that was easy to see through. “Is there anything I need to say or do?”

“You will not be asked anything beyond what you’ve already offered to do for me,” he said remorsefully. Atem was certain the gods would be more than willing to snap him up.

***

The path wound through the tall grass, with many forks, but Atem easily led the way, avoiding hidden traps and obstacles. No one else approached them, though they could feel many eyes watching.

It soon ended in a spacious, open courtyard surrounded by pillars. Beyond, it was too dark to see.

Waiting at its centre was a large sarcophagus, made of red granite and finely carved with delicate gold inlays. Atem’s skin crawled. He knew as soon as he saw it what it contained. The final piece of himself he needed. His trapped _ka_. Held hostage here by the gods for three thousand years. Jealously hoarded while the rest of him had splintered to pieces in thankless service.

A terror seized him, now that he was faced with it.

Staring at the stone that housed whatever remained of his living soul, he was struck with an alarming clarity: he had brought Yugi here on a fool’s errand. It was wrong let Yugi give himself up, take his place in this. How could he abandon his partner’s _ka_ in that coffin? The gods would never trade him back. Yugi’s bright and brave soul for a long-dead and forgotten Pharaoh? He wanted to run.

“ _Aibou_ , this was a mistake—”

 _‘Flight has taken its toll on you,’_ something greeted them from the dark, just beyond the edge of the court. Wolfish teeth gleamed in the faint light. ‘ _Pharaoh Atem,_ _Horus of the golden sun, Protector of the Two Lands, t_ _he Dual King chosen by Ra, beloved of Amun.’_

Atem was rooted to the spot. This god owned his soul, and he could not be silent when so called. “Anubis, I have come unto thee, your avenger of right and truth.” The words left him unbidden. “Aapep, who rejoices in the day of darkness, has breached the gates I hold.”

 _‘Would you that I unfetter your_ ka _, bind your bones, make your limbs firm, that you may endure?’_

Atem bit his tongue hard, refused to utter the words that were fighting to leave him.

Except where Atem faltered, Yugi forged ahead.

“Yes,” he said with a steady voice. “ _We come before you, so that you may restore his mantle, that he may command the northern horizon._ ” The ancient phrases flowed out of Yugi’s mouth. He had found, from within their shared heart and Atem’s fresh memories, the ritual that would trade their places.

“He is my lifeline. I will not let you keep him.” Desperate, Atem gripped Yugi’s hand tightly, to hold him back.

More than one god chuckled in the darkness.

 _‘How your borrowed_ ka _flourishes! Let him speak to me.’_

Something invisible clamped over Atem’s mouth so he could not object. And he was helpless as Yugi withdrew his hand and moved forward. He knew their hearts were sometimes united, and other times opposites. And right now there were no moderate emotions between Atem’s fearful rage and Yugi’s cool certainty. It fueled them equally, and Atem had never hated the world so much.

And Yugi had never loved it more. He approached the coffin, knelt to place the Scale on the ground beside it. “ _I come before you to speak as his heart of different ages_.”

‘ _There is much that weighs on you,’_ the god addressed him, a thoughtful speculation behind its words.

Yugi straightened his shoulders, raised his chin as he turned to face where the voice came from the darkness. “ _Anubis – my mouth is mine to speak, my legs are mine to walk. See my_ ka _is content and that I come here willingly to be judged on his behalf.”_

‘ _I see thee, I know thy name,_ ’ came the acknowledgement.

A human-hand reached out from the darkness, bearing a feather, bright and white, and with a soft breath, the jackal-face blew, so that it drifted land on the right-hand pan of the Scale.

Yugi looked at it curiously, and when nothing happened, he glanced back at Atem, a silent question threading between them. Atem ignored it and tried to call him back to his side. This was not a traditional death. Yugi would not be asked to justify himself, to make any confessions. Being here was enough. Atem knew without a doubt that the Scale would deem Yugi’s life a fair trade for the Pharaoh’s own.

After another moment of deliberation, the scale tipped down towards the feather, heavier than Yugi’s heart.

‘ _You shall be a blessed spirit here.’_

Delighted murmurs and cackles sounded from all around them in the dark.

Yugi hesitated, only to take a steadying breath, before standing straight and steeling himself. He spoke the final words that Atem dreaded. “ _Let an offering be cut from me, so that his arms may overthrow our enemies.”_ he said, and Atem tried to scream in protest. There was no power in the universe that would give him to strength to bear this willingly.

 _‘The Lady of Stars shall enfold you, and you shall stay with me,’_ came the hungry agreement.

Atem wanted to beg for another way. But he had led Yugi here, and his partner had followed him willingly, and now the gods would chew him up and put his _ka_ in that cold, dark box. And in their laughter, he was certain they would never let him go.

As he struggled, he felt the attention shift back to him.

‘ _You have brought a strong_ ka. _What I shall do for you is good._ ’ The voice was pleased, but Atem knew it wasn’t kind. ‘ _Your akh will endure on earth, with the power to do as your Majesty wishes. South crown will face north, and the north crown will face south.’_

Atem wanted none of it, regretted every naïve step that had led him to this moment.

Anubis stepped out of the shadows, tall and broad and inhuman. With one hand he easily pushed the heavy stone lid of the sarcophagus open. And from its depths, a faint golden cloud rose out of it. The god fanned it towards Atem, and he stared in horror as it drifted towards him, seeped into his chest. It stuck to him, and it felt like his insides had been lit on fire. His lungs burned. His heart ached. Life was painful and he wanted to stay _dead_.

To Yugi the god ordered: ‘ _Give breath to him who gasps for breath, that he_ _shall again be ensouled and mighty.’_

Yugi obediently turned and reached out for him, clearly aware of Atem’s pain, ready to do whatever he could to stop it. But for the first time ever, Atem wanted to run from his partner. He would suffocate, so that Yugi could keep breathing. Anguish raged in his heart, but Yugi was calm.

_No no no—_

Yugi held his gaze, and with a tranquil single-mindedness took hold of Atem’s face, drew them closer together.

Atem was frantic, but unable to move. _Please Aibou, don’t make me leave you here alone_ , he pleaded, unable to speak out loud through the power that held him voiceless. _I can’t live without you._

 _You have to go protect our friends_ , Yugi reminded him as he pressed a kiss to Atem’s lips. And as Yugi’s breath touched him, he felt every piece of his soul fuse together, his own _ka_ scorching him from the inside out. _I know you’ll come back for me._

 _‘Life is yours, Pharaoh. Go out in peace and restore balance,_ ’ said the god.

***

 _Peace_ was definitely not what Atem felt. A heady mix of power and life flooded through him. A golden light seared him, swept around him as Anubis’ cursed blessing blazed on his forehead. The cosmic strength in him was dizzying. This wasn’t shadow magic. It was divine _light,_ the power of the sun that belonged to the Pharaohs and the old gods. And he was _whole_ and _thriving_ and _sated_ —

And he still had _Yugi_ , he realized with a jolt as he became more aware. They were back on the docks, but this time he was in his own body. Blood moving through his own heart. And in his own solid arms he was holding his partner, Yugi’s breath still warm on his lips. Atem tilted back into him, sighed into him with relief. He was here. He was still here. Hearts still connected by the pendant slung around Yugi’s neck.

For a moment, Yugi leaned in, both of them lost in the contact, of truly touching for the first time, before he shuddered and cried out in sudden pain. Atem caught him and clutched him close. He could feel it all – not just the Pharaoh’s _ka_ that brought him to life, but Yugi’s slowly draining away. “I’m sorry, _Aibou_. I’ve got you, just stay with me,” he whispered.

But there was no stopping it. Yugi’s soul was breaking apart. The puzzle was slowly pulling him in, shadows splintering him apart, jealous gods drawing his _ka_ into that empty sarcophagus. A fresh new soul to bind back the darkness.

Yugi still had a determined look on his face, even as his legs and arms numbed, and Atem could hardly make sense of the emotions burning between them. While he was brimming with a scathing anger at the injustice of the world, his partner offered him nothing but a quiet, resilient faith.

“Can you help them now?” Yugi’s voice was hoarse and faint.

He could, and he would. Anything and everything his partner wanted of him. _Stay as long as you can_ , was all he asked in return. He would dole out justice as he was meant to do, use this renewed light within him to balance the darkness Malik had called out.

And if Yugi was still here, even for just a little longer, he could hold on to the hope that he might save Yugi’s heart as well.

Atem turned to face the darkness.

***

There was no longer any sky or horizon to be seen. Their detour through the puzzle had taken hardly any time, but slow seconds had ticked by and a choking haze had descended all around them while shadows writhed their way further out of ocean. And the not-quite-Malik was standing, knee deep in a black bilge that spilled over the cusp of the seawall. He cocked his head and grinned at the sudden appearance of a living Pharaoh.

“Selfish as always,” he called out. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist _power_. It’s what we all hunger for!”

Atem stood tall, an arm around Yugi. His partner leaned heavily against him, head on his shoulder as he took shallow, shuddering breaths, eyes pinched shut in pain. Yugi’s suffering laced along their link, stoked the fire in his heart. “Aapep! Leave willingly before I send you back to your pit myself,” he spat.

“Heh, I don’t think so. What is one soul in the face of ten thousand?” Black eyes gleamed through the tar that streaked his face, and Malik gestured with the Rod.

Jounouchi struggled to his feet, helplessly unable to fully take back control of himself, and Anzu, Honda and Ishizu, still blank-faced, pivoted around to face him. All the others lurched towards the swelling, unnatural ocean.

With a huff of contempt, Atem held his partner closer, and with his free hand took the Key from Yugi’s trembling fingers. There was no doubt that he could do this now. It wasn’t darkness that he controlled anymore, but something equally great, and through the items he would command the shadows. They would obey him once again.

With a deep breath, he let _power_ surge through him. A golden circle of light swept out from him, gusted out and over Malik’s victims, and his mind nearly whited-out as he shattered the barricades on the hearts of every person, banished the shadows that held them. The Key was molten hot, it continued to burn against his skin but he didn’t feel any pain. He was shaking with the energy that was channeling through him. He was lost in it, coherent thought nearly wiped out. He absently wondered at melting down the Items. He could do it, with his bare hands. Wrap the world in his temper, find all seven. Destroy these cursed items and everything—

“What the hell is going on?!” Honda was free, and shaking his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He reached out to help up Anzu from where she’d fallen down in shock. Jounouchi was breathing like he’d run a marathon, while Ishizu was staring at Atem in stark awe.

Yugi’s friends gathered themselves, squinted at Atem through the light that surrounded him.

Their bewildered faces brought him back to his purpose. Yugi, with his stuttering, shattering heart. The people Yugi loved, that he’d been asked to save. Atem scooped his partner into his arms, and stepped towards their friends, engulfing them in the circle of light that surrounded the Pharaoh.

“Please take care of _Aibou_ ,” he asked as he gently passed Yugi to Jounouchi.

Jounouchi held him, stunned and wordless until his eyes locked on to the old scab and fresh bruises on his friend’s neck. “Oh god, what did I—”

“This is not your fault,” Atem assured him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “ _Aibou_ brought me back so that I could deal with _this_.” He scowled at the haze that had already billowed back to surround them.

“You’re the _Spirit of the Puzzle_ —” Anzu breathed, eyes wide in disbelief.

He nodded. Yugi’s friends may wonder at the sudden presence of the Pharaoh here in the world. He knew, however, that the miracle was not that the Pharaoh once again lived, but that Yugi had deemed him worthy, trusted him.

He did not want to let him down.

“Anzu. Honda. Can you try to get everyone away to safety? I will stop this.” He suspected that most people, like Yugi, would not be able to see the full extent of the darkness that surrounded them, would have woken now to be merely dazed and confused and a little lost. Yugi’s friends could help them, as he took care of everything else.

When they agreed, he softly touched his partner’s clammy brow. Offered him a silent benediction before he slipped the chain of the Puzzle from around Yugi’s neck to loop it around his own. Ready, he turned away to face Malik and the darkness that possessed him. He could see the monstrous form of Aapep wound around a mortal human. The poison in his heart.

Atem took one step before Ishizu desperately reached out, distracted him with a hand on his arm. He fixed a cold stare on her. Her family of tomb keepers had _betrayed_ him. Allowed her brother to abuse the Items and released Aapep on the people of Domino. Threatened the people Yugi loved. And now his partner was suffering for it.

He expected an apology, for her to beg his forgiveness, but she didn’t.

“Please save my brother,” she pleaded, as if she had any right to ask such a thing. “I swear, he is good inside.” Her other hand was clutching the Tauk at her neck. She must have seen what he intended to do.

“I will do what is _just._ Do not oppose me,” he growled, and let a flash of light burn through him, scalding her hand where it dared to touch him. She jumped back with a yelp, looked at him with mute fear. A dawning realization of the reality of what exactly it was that her family had served for so long.

He turned away from her shocked face and strode purposefully towards Malik. He walked straight over the thick black grime, each step burning a hot, golden footprint through it.

The darkness snarled with Malik’s face, and shadows snaked tight around its host. They swelled and doubled, then tripled in size, scales encasing him like armor. It continued to expand, a long, fanged face growing out of its distorted body. It gnashed at the Pharaoh with its huge mouth, but did not dare to touch him.

“ _You forgot us. You let the shadows starve,_ ” it accused him. “ _But I cannot die.”_ The stench of dead, rotten things billowed from the snake’s mouth.

Atem was not intimidated by this vulgar beast. He was filled with his own divine wrath. He continued his approach until his aura blazed against the bloated, scaley body of Aapep.

“Then you will starve for eons more.” He touched the puzzle with his right hand, and with his left he plunged it into the solid mass that encased Malik. The shadows screamed as his golden hand gouged past the armoured scales, the heat of the Pharaoh’s power cauterizing the wet, grimy flesh underneath.

Smoke and tar spilled out of it, pelted against him but he stood firm, blindly pushing deeper into it until his fingers touched the human body at its centre. With no vessel, the darkness would be easy to banish. He grasped at Malik, caught him firmly by the shoulder. He could feel skin melting beneath his palm, heard something both human and inhuman shrieking, shadows beating frantically against him. Atem ignored it, let the pain of his partners heart feed his anger, held on even _tighter_ and burned even hotter until the shadows and Aapep’s grotesque, melting body fought to twist away.

 _Stop— it’s not his fault_! Yugi’s voice rang in his mind. _Don’t be cruel, you’re better than that_.

Atem stopped, looked back over his shoulder with wonder, where his partner was still held by Jounouchi. Yugi really was too good. Too kind to witness this kind of retribution, even in the midst of his own suffering.

 _What would you have me do, Aibou?_ he asked sincerely, and waited for Yugi to tell him what justice would look like today. But there was no reply.

And then he felt his heart turn from white hot to stone cold.

Yugi was gone.

He knew it, before he heard Jounouchi call out in alarm. He saw Anzu and Honda abandon the dispersing crowds of people to hurry back to Yugi’s side.

A hollow despair swallowed up his anger. He trembled where he stood, arm still buried shoulder deep in Aapep, firmly gripping its human core, but he was staring back at Yugi’s body. His mind filled with a static emptiness. He wanted to lay down and die alongside his partner, go back within the puzzle immediately beg the gods to exchange their souls once again.

The shadows resumed their threatening gurgle, attempting to consume him the same as it had Malik.

Atem turned back to the monster, apathetic, as its body swelled around him.

“He said I should not be _cruel_ ,” he told it. “Do you deserve that, Aapep?”

The darkness curled it head down to laugh in his face. Long, pointed teeth grinned wickedly. A forked tongue hissed out to taste his cheek. “ _I deserve to eat you and everything you hold dear.”_

Atem’s expression crumbled into something between despair and disgust. This was all for Yugi, and if his partner wanted him to be kind, he would try, so that he might continue to deserve his partners misplaced faith.

He let light fill his hands again, and fought to get a better grip on the human hidden in the beast. And then using all his strength, he ripped Malik straight out of Aapep’s belly.

***

Separated from its host, Aapep’s monstrous form burst with a splatter. Atem discarded Malik’s liberated body on the ground and wiped the muck from his face. He then took the puzzle in both hands, closed his eyes, and allowed the item to blaze with power.

It was different than before, from when he’d been only the spirit of the puzzle, when he’d been part of the darkness itself, and it moved around him as one. Now he was a Pharaoh, whole again and burning inside and out with the gods’ blessing. He held the power of the sun itself, and with it he banished the invading shadows from the sky, and the water, and the air. Restored balance, as he was meant to do.

As shadows funneled back into the puzzle, a natural nighttime was revealed in living world. Soft and calm and clean. Beyond the halo of city lights, far out towards the ocean horizon, dim stars flickered in the sky. Within a few long seconds, everything was clear, and something deep within the puzzle clamped over that gate, sealing off the shadows off for good.

And in that moment any remaining trace of Yugi vanished from his heart.

The puzzle was cold against his fingertips, but he still seethed with a golden power. Atem desperately held on to the thought of his partner as he turned his gaze on Malik. Reminded himself of his partner’s good heart as he raised a steady hand to smite the last remaining shadows within him, purge this unworthy heart of Aapep’s poison.

Malik screamed as light scorched through him, though Atem was deaf to his pain. Ishizu was not – she bolted towards them to collapse at her brother’s side, pleaded for his mercy with words that did not reach Atem’s numb heart. Malik thrashed on the ground, but soon this task was also done. The tomb keeper was free of the shadows, but scarred. His shoulder remained charred, black and blistered from ear to elbow, where the Pharaoh had placed his furious, molten grip.

Well, he couldn’t fix _everything_ , he thought. Couldn’t undue the suffering of generations. But life and freedom were perhaps kinder than he had originally intended. Perhaps this was the sort of thing Yugi would approve of.

Atem knelt down to take the Rod. He then held out an expectant hand to Ishizu.

“I relieve your family of your duty to me.”

Ishizu’s face was streaked with tears, and she nodded as she undid the clasp of the Tauk, placed it in the Pharaoh’s open palm. “Thank you,” she said. Atem turned away sharply, not so ready to offer her any sort of forgiveness, much less accept her gratitude, when really she ought to be thanking _Yugi_ that she and her brother were still alive.

They _all_ owed their lives to Yugi.

***

Anzu was on the ground, Jounouchi and Honda on either side of her, cradling Yugi’s cold body. She was sobbing so hard she’d started to hiccup. All three of them turned hard eyes on Atem as he approached.

“You said you’d help him!” she cried, twisting away as Atem reached out.

“Please let me hold him,” Atem asked softly, trying and failing to keep the desperation from his voice. He crouched down and opened his arms to receive his partner. He doubted the gods would be at all willing to return such a precious exchange, but he had to try. He would go back to that world within the tree, offer himself back up to Anubis. Humble himself before the gods, ask them to take mercy on Yugi’s soul, restore him to life in his place. “I will try to make this right.”

Only when Jounouchi nudged her did Anzu reluctantly let Yugi go. “You’d better,” she sniffed.

Atem carefully accepted him, pulled his partner’s body close enough that he could slip the chain of the puzzle so it was looped around both of their necks.

“What _exactly_ are you trying to do?” Honda asked, but Atem was intent on Yugi’s still face. He brought their foreheads together, and with an exhale he sank into the puzzle once more.

***

He was in a room he had never seen before.

Instead of a dark, cold labyrinth, his soul room had changed to a resplendent throne room, an elegant, sprawling palace. Tall marble pillars held up the high ceiling. Between them, long linen curtains billowed in a cool breeze, white turning to gold in the sun. He could see trees beyond, and the glittering water of the Nile, dotted with feluccas. He could hear the familiar songs of birds, the hum of cicadas. It was more like the world from his memories, than a simple room.

The serenity of the place was at odds with his broken heart.

At the head of the room was a dais with an ornate throne. There had been a similar one, carved out of stone, that he’d often sat upon in the depths of the puzzle. He stared at it for a moment before turning away. The other end of the room ended in a stone wall with a solid wooden door. It didn't fit in with the rest of this airy place. He went to it, and when he pulled the handle, it swung open easily to reveal a familiar stone corridor.

And Atem froze. Instead of the plain blue door that led to Yugi’s soul room, what faced him was the foreboding stone door of the Millennium Puzzle, engraved with the eye of Horus.

_No._

He tried to push it open, but it didn’t budge.

 _Aibou!_ he called, as he pounded on it, furious and hopeless and certain that this feeling inside was his new soul dying already. _Give him back to me!_

He beat and clawed at that door until his fists bled, but there was no answer.

When his fingers were too raw to tear at the stone any longer, he sank down, the stone door cold against his back. He buried his face in his arms, and wept.

How horribly he’d misjudged the scope of this exchange.

How stupid he’d been to think it would be so easy to undo Yugi’s sacrifice.

He lived, and his partner was gone. And there was no one to blame but himself.


	8. Chapter 8

There was a simple funeral for Yugi. The lone casualty in all that had happened.

Atem had no idea of what the traditions were here. So he did his best to be unobtrusive through the wake and vigil, stayed quiet and listened respectfully as a Shinto priest chanted sutras and Yugi’s loved ones mourned. He even withheld his objections when he learned his partner’s body would be cremated, though the knowledge left him nauseous. Who was he to interfere? These were Yugi’s friends and family. He was just the one who let them all down.

Ishizu bravely made a brief appearance at the wake to offer her condolences. Atem was cold, but civil, as his partner might have expected him to be. The Ishtars were not at fault for how this had turned out. He even managed to wish her, and her brother when he was well enough to travel, a safe journey back to Egypt.

However Atem was unable to face Yugi’s friends. They cried bitterly through everything, and Atem kept his distance, certain that they would never speak to him again.

He wished for the earth to swallow him whole so that he could avoid facing the weight of his failures.

But he continued to live and breathe and walk. Atem was his own person and no longer tied to the Millennium Puzzle as he had once been. He wore it around his neck all the same. A heavy thing to carry around to remind himself of what he’d lost.

***

In spite of how horribly Atem felt he’d failed them all, Sugoroku had seen to it that he be welcomed into the Mutou home. Atem was allowed to stay in Yugi’s room, but he refused to change a single thing in it. He wore Yugi’s clothes, and passed hours curled in Yugi’s bed, staring at the wall, reliving moments. He wanted to live in them forever. How precious even the most benign things were now. Every second of Yugi’s life he had witnessed meant more than the sum of all his own memories.

Every night, instead of sleeping, he would face the stone door within the puzzle. No matter how long he spent pleading and crying outside of it, it never opened. He knew every prayer and invocation, but no matter what he tried, the puzzle remained indifferent.

With each morning that he woke, he felt increasingly certain he ought to have died as well, so that he could have been buried with his grief alongside Yugi.

***

The strange events at the docks had been chalked up to a mass hallucination, the result of some unknown pollutant. Seto Kaiba even sued the city over it, citing damages to his brother and himself. He even paid for a lawyer on behalf of the deceased Yugi Mutou. Not long later, Kaiba Corp took ownership of the Domino City museum. Atem hadn’t really understood the purpose of it all, but Mokuba, back to his chipper self and largely unaffected by the whole ordeal, said it was _good PR_ , as though that explained anything.

Seto had helpfully agreed to securely store the Ishtar’s Millennium Items. Atem hated looking at them in Yugi’s room, thought he might go insane listening to their persistent hum. So he hoped he was doing right by trusting the Kaibas to lock them away. Atem had no use for the Rod, or Scale, or Tauk. And Seto was still put off by the whole reincarnation idea that Atem figured he wouldn’t meddle with them.

Seto hadn’t even been weird when Atem showed up a second time, at Sugoroku’s insistence, with a request for some documents to establish his own identity in this modern world.

Whenever Seto demanded an owed duel, however, Atem refused. _Not today_ , he’d say. Seto would frown and scoff and berate Yugi’s foreign alter ego, but wisely never stopped him from leaving.

***

Time passed, in its slow, relentless way. After weeks of sleepless nights spent raging and cursing at the door within puzzle, something happened that Atem hadn’t experienced in a long time.

Exhaustion claimed him, and he _dreamed_.

Piecemeal fragments, variations of all his wishes made true, but wrong and twisted:

…The puzzle melting in his hands, gold dripping down his tan arms, until Yugi’s heart was freed, a white light glowing hotly in his hands, its flame burning a path down his throat as he devoured it.

…Slaughtering Anubis with an obsidian dagger over that granite sarcophagus, Atem pushing open the stone cover, only for Yugi to emerge with not his own face, but the bloody head of a jackal.

…Yugi walking by his side, but when his partner spoke, Atem could not hear his voice, and when Atem reached out to touch him, he shattered like glass into a thousand pieces.

The nightmares evaporated from his mind when Atem finally jolted awake. It was all strange and nonsensical, but they left him as guilty and afraid and alone as he had ever been.

***

Jounouchi came into the Game Shop early on a Saturday morning. A cheery bell chimed with his arrival. Sugoroku’s greeting was subdued but warm as he started to pull out some new cards. Jounouchi stopped him, asked if he could see Atem, and so he’d been summoned from his listless depression in Yugi’s room.

Atem came downstairs, and stood before Yugi’s friend, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He couldn’t quite meet his eyes, wasn’t able to decipher the expression on Jounouchi’s face.

Sugoroku looked worriedly between them, then eventually said, “I’ll leave you two alone.”

“Nah, we’ll take a walk,” Jounouchi suggested instead. “It’s a nice day out.”

Atem didn’t really have the energy for this, much less anything else. Felt like he was passing each day merely drifting at the edges of the world, a ghost once again. But he let Jounouchi usher him out the door.

They followed the sidewalk, the July sun hot on their backs as an awkward silence hung between them. When they reached a park, Jounouchi sat heavily on an empty bench with a sigh.

“Look, man, I don’t really understand or remember what all happened,” he began. Atem stood stoically before him, listening and waiting. “But I really miss Yugi, and I just… wanted to talk to you, I guess.”

Oh. Atem didn’t know what to say to that, but he took a seat beside him, and Jounouchi continued.

“He must have really trusted you, and I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up when you did.”

Atem winced. He didn’t deserve this. For Jounouchi to absolve him of his crimes against Yugi.

“Me and the others wanted to give you space but… you gotta know, none of us blame you that Yugi’s gone.”

Atem kept his eyes on the pendant, cradled it tenderly. Didn’t correct Jounouchi by saying it was only Yugi’s _body_ that was truly gone.

“I don’t know what to do without him,” he admitted quietly.

Jounouchi gave him a pat on the back, and Atem was surprised to find it comforting. “I don’t want to tell you how to deal with this, but me and the others are getting together tomorrow. Summer vacation’s just started, and we thought maybe you’d join us. Nothing crazy. A few games at Honda’s place. If you’re up to it.”

Atem felt the ice-cold grip around his heart loosen. It wasn’t _Yugi_ , but he wanted to chase this warm feeling. Friendship?

“I’d like that,” he said.

***

Apparently Yugi’s friends had been spending a lot of time together. Laughing and crying to help their hearts heal, and when they welcomed in Atem, it was like a lifeboat rescuing him from his drowning despair.

Anzu chose to put on a movie in the background, something lighthearted that most people had seen a dozen times before, and they sat around the coffee table to cycle through a few different board games. They weren’t particularly tactical or skill based, but Atem’s luck was strong enough that he kept _wiping the floor with them_ , to the increasing incredulity of Yugi’s friends.

And as the day progressed, the conversation became easier, settled into something less tentative and more jovial and curious.

“Shit, dude, I don’t know how you do it!” Jounouchi looked aghast as Atem claimed another victory.

Anzu huffed, slightly put out about coming in at a close second. “Is it cheating if you use the Puzzle?”

She was only teasing, but there was a tense beat of silence. Atem floundered for only a second before sparing Anzu from her desperate attempt to apologize. “No— it’s not— This is just me?” He self-consciously let go of the puzzle and put both hands on the table. He still had that golden, divine power, seated deep within his complete soul, but it wasn’t anything like the dark magic of the shadow realm. No more shadow games or dark penalties. That was sealed entirely within the puzzle. “I’m not tied to it anymore. It’s not like when Yugi and I were together.”

“So why do you still wear it?” Honda leaned his chin in his hand, carefully casual with his question.

“I want to keep him close.” Atem kept his eyes on the pendant. The admission left him feeling vulnerable, and he didn’t want to risk seeing pity in their eyes.

Jounouchi and Honda both nodded solemnly, seemed to accept it as a _symbolic_ closeness, but Anzu opened and closed her mouth a few times, torn between asking a question but maybe not wanting to know the answer.

She let her curiosity win. “Atem, is Yugi’s soul… in there?”

He restlessly drummed his fingers on the table to keep his hands from touching the Puzzle again. “He took my place. But it’s closed to me now. I can’t get him out.”

“Sorry, _what_?” Honda was trying to catch up to Anzu’s question and Atem’s unexpected answer.

“I thought we would be able to change back, after everything, but I couldn’t get his soul back from the puzzle. And it’s too late now.”

There was a stunned silence around the table. He hoped they wouldn’t kick him out, even if it was what he deserved.

After a moment, Jounouchi asked, “Well, how did Yugi get _you_ out?”

Atem shrugged. Yugi had solved the puzzle, obviously. “I don’t think it’ll work the same way twice.”

“Why not?” There was something hopeful and desperate in Anzu’s voice. “If there’s a way for him to still be here… shouldn’t you at least try?”

The thought of shattering the puzzle chilled him to the bone. It would be a terrible thing, to break apart the fragile little universe that held Yugi’s soul. And to bring him back to live as a vague spirit? Was that the right thing to do? The _right thing_ and the _selfish thing_ were hard to tease apart.

It had been cold in his hands for over two months now. But maybe Yugi’s friends were right to be hopeful. Was that what he had to do? Break it apart, start fresh?

He knew how cold and dark and lonely it was in the Puzzle, and how good it had felt to be freed from its depths. And if the door did open again, then there was the hope that he could challenge the gods, fight to restore Yugi’s body as they had done his.

The optimism of Yugi’s friends… his friends? It warmed his heart, emboldened him.

Perhaps courage was the answer to despair. 

***

When he smashed the puzzle its pieces fell apart easily in his hands, scattered across the surface of Yugi’s desk. It didn’t hurt, as he’d expected it to. As it had when he’d been only a spirit. He hoped it hadn’t hurt Yugi, bound inside.

The gold dimly reflected the lamplight, and Atem set to work immediately, slotting the pieces back together with ease.

He was intent on his task. Didn’t hear the soft padding of feet as Yugi’s mother, and a while later Yugi’s grandfather, retired to their rooms.

The house was silent, blanketed in night, when he slid the final, central piece into place, and the Item glowed blissfully in his hands.

He felt an awareness beyond himself press against his mind, bright and familiar.

He welcomed it into his heart.

***

Atem knew where Yugi was waiting. A dense, magnetic field called their hearts together.

In his soul room, he walked away from the palace, towards the banks of the Nile. The river here was as he remembered from his first life, lush with reeds and trees, full of birds.

And in a secret grove Atem found him, sitting in the cool shade beneath a sprawling _nehet_ tree. The sight filled him with peace.

Yugi turned to him with a warm smile. “How long were you going to make me wait?” he teased as Atem collapsed bonelessly into his arms.

“Forgive me, _Aibou._ I was a little lost, but your friends helped me.” He wound his arms around Yugi’s waist, buried his face against him, sighed as Yugi smoothed his hands through his hair, down his back.

“That’s good. Is everyone okay?”

Atem nodded. “All that’s missing is you.” He sat up to look at his partner closely, to examine those eyes he loved. _Are you well?_ he asked, heart to heart.

“I guess I can’t complain. Though Anubis is kind of a jerk.”

Atem hummed in agreement. Now that the door of the Puzzle was open again, he could devote himself doing right by Yugi. If Yugi asked him to, he would face off against Anubis. Not just steal back his _ka_ , but force the gods to build a new body and bring his partner back to life. Let that dog-faced bastard take a turn guarding the gates of the Shadow Realm.

As he wondered just how he’d _persuade_ a god to do such a thing, he felt the answer come from Yugi.

“We could always challenge him to a Shadow Game,” his partner suggested. There was a playful gleam in Yugi’s eye that caught him off guard, and Atem tensed when he felt, more than saw, darkness draw in around them.

Yugi let the shadows go quickly, hastily apologized. “I’m sorry, I don’t know— should I not? Are there rules I should know?”

Atem’s shock passed quickly and he relaxed with a chuckle. "That's a great idea, Aibou", he soothed, and he pulled Yugi back into his arms, cradled him against his chest.

Yugi was still himself, in spite of everything. And the two of them were dual crowns, inversions of light and dark. Always balanced, no matter what, as long as they were together.

Soon he would see to mending Yugi’s soul. But for a moment he was content to rest here.

_Let me hold you just a little longer._

**//fin**

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS DONE. I'm **shocked** I managed to follow through with this. tbh this was perhaps a little ambitious for me as a first time writer, but as daunting as it was, I had a lot of fun and it's been exciting to share this with you.
> 
> I guess there's always loose ends. Do I want our boys to team up and smite some gods? Hell yeah. Do I want to go on about all their future shenanigans? Totally. But this is where this story ends. 
> 
> My sincerest wish is that you found this entertaining and at least somewhat satisfying 💕


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